Prodigal Delinquent
by Ethereal Euphoria
Summary: AU. Little Harry Potter knew, the moment he defied the laws of gravity and made a pebble accelerate at a freefall of 8.9 m/s 2, that he was going to have fun learning about the rules of all the known universe… and breaking every single one of them.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All characters, settings, etc. that are recognizable are the property of their respective owners. I am not associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. Original characters and plot lines are Ethereal Euphoria's property. No copyright infringement intended.

Title: Prodigal Delinquent

Summary: AU. Little Harry Potter knew, the moment he defied the laws of gravity and made a pebble freefall accelerate at 8.9 m/s2, that he was going to have fun learning about the rules of the all the known universe… and breaking every single one of them.

Authors Note: I have been reading some stories of Harry being a prodigy, genius, etc. And well, this is my take. I hope _you_ enjoy.

Fact: I finally have a Beta! Her penname is Lanya Celebrian and she is a close friend of mine.

***03/05/09* EDITED and REPOSTED **Okay, here's the deal. I received a not-so-short review that my fic was losing its plot and if there was one, it was unclear. It was a wake-up call for me. I realized that I've been giving you half-baked chapters because of my eagerness to update directly after I finish a chapter. I am not good at proof-reading. But I will do my best to give you all what you deserve: the best chapters I can write. I'm going to remove chapters two to six since those will be the ones that will most likely be drastically edited. But for those who liked what I had written before, don't sweat. This also means that some of my other ideas that I had after I had posted or those that I wanted to add but couldn't find the place to insert them will be added! I am very excited about the re-writing. I will try to post them as soon as possible but for now, please enjoy the re-written first chapter!

Chapter 1 – Singularity

Harry knew, the moment he saw his Mum lock the door to his nursery, that something was wrong. She kept a steady wand pointed at the door and he heard her heart make fast thumping sounds. Looking at his mother with a curious expression, he drank in her hazard appearance and shaken disposition. He remembered hearing his father cry out only moments before. He didn't understand a word his father said since the words were spoken quickly. It annoyed him.

He was shaken out of his reverie when the door blasted open and Harry took his first look at the _man_ the entire Wizarding world feared: Lord Voldemort. Harry saw his snake-like features, blood red eyes and sickly looking skin. He heard that hiss of a voice and smelled a revolting smell of something rotting come off the dark robes that the _man_ wore. The first thing Harry did was crinkle his nose at the sight and remain seated on his cot.

Voldemort laughed a high-pitched cackle at the sight of his Mum trying to defend him.

"Not Harry, not Harry! _Please_, not Harry!" his mother begged.

"Stand aside, you silly girl… Stand aside now!" Voldemort's face lost its amusement.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead— "

'Voldemort didn't seem like the type to haggle with.' Harry mused as the scene played on before of him. He didn't understand a lot of what was happening but the distress his mother exuded was enough to get little Harry to stand up and walk towards his crib railings.

"Not Harry! Please … have mercy … have mercy… "

Harry had a hand around the lock that would lower the railings and allow him to wobble towards his mother, but a sudden shrill of laughter stopped him. He looked on to see a bright green light, a color similar to his mother's eyes, shoot out from the stranger's wand and strike his mother. She had been standing only a few feet from him as he watched his mother fall, with a loud thump, to the floor.

His eyes grew wide as he looked into the glassy eyes of his beloved mother. Her red hair fanned around her, as if protecting her head from the hard wood floor. He knew, somehow, that she would never rise again. She would never again sing him a lullaby to get him to sleep. She would never kiss him goodnight and tell him that she loved him.

He tore his eyes away from the person who fed him, comforted him, and protected him. Now, his gaze was directed to the man who took that person away. It was high time that 'goo goo' and 'gaga' gave way. Little Harry Potter was mad and he would not let this murderer forget to never cross him again. And as he watched another green light ignite from the murderer's wand, watching it fly towards him, he felt an odd sense of hostility in following the 'get hit and die' rule. He felt it touch his forehead; trying to enter his brain and take the soul embedded in his little one-year-old body. His eyes widened as he felt it break through an unknown barrier. Feeling something snap within him, he felt pain. But mostly, he felt anger.

He glared at the man who murdered his mother in front of him, and lost that little piece of hope he had that his father would come to the rescue. He felt his anger, desperation, and sorrow build inside of him. He threw all that he had into knocking the light that was being absorbed into his brain, out of his little body. It was no longer green but a curious brightness of white. And, a petrifying scream later, he smiled.

Now… he could rest for a while.

Five years had passed since that night, and little Harry never forgot how it felt when that eerie green light hit him. The only other thing he could remember was his anger… everything else seemed to blend into his forgotten memories but who could blame him? Even for a prodigious child or genius, remembering anything seen, felt, or heard at the age of one was difficult. Nevertheless, it irked him knowing that he had forgotten something so important.

Harry watched intently as his Aunt Petunia showed him how to make breakfast. He was already mentally calculating the proportion of bacon to the cooking oil and best amount of heat and time to get the bacon to procure its best crisp. He turned her voice out and watched as eggs were scrambled next. He was so intense in watching and calculating that he did not notice his cousin push him from behind, effectively knocking into his aunt and making her drop the frying pan onto the kitchen floor with a loud clang. The food was spoiled and useless.

His uncle was not someone that had a very good handle on timing. But at that moment, Harry felt some doubt concerning that fact since this was the exact moment his Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen.

"BOY!"

Looking back on it, Harry thought that he was pretty lucky. He was supposed to go to the market but after the disaster with the bacon and eggs, he was removed the _honor_ of helping Aunt Petunia shop for groceries. That usually meant that he would be left home with a large pile of chores, or sent to Mrs. Figg and her numerous cats. But Mrs. Figg had a bought of flu and Dudley had a play date with a kid named Piers. His Uncle Vernon had been given the task to watch over him. To put it simply, Number Four was locked and Harry was kicked out for the afternoon.

He was a small child, he knew that, standing at least a few heads shorter than most of his peers. But he also knew he was smarter than most. What he lacked in height and body mass, he gained monumentally in his ability to learn. He would finish all his school worksheets the day they were given, carefully writing in pencil so he could erase most of his work before handing it to the teacher. Aside from the time he took to finish the worksheets, he had nothing else to do in class and grew bored quickly.

One day, he noticed a group of older kids and their nice teacher go outside to study the world around them. This immediately caught his interest and any inkling he had of actually listening to his own teacher was gone. He was seated near the window so he heard the lessons and lectures that the class was studying. What he didn't know however was that this class was the advanced placement class and was studying way beyond even their age level.

That was how he came to learn of the wonderful world of Physics. He learned that every action had an equal and opposite reaction, and that energy could neither be created nor destroyed but transformed. He learned of calculations way above addition and subtraction. He learned the laws of gravity and the acceleration rate of a free falling body.

He came to the park and watched all the other children play. He remembered what the older kids' teacher told the class just the other day at school.

"_See this pencil and this rock? Which one do you think will reach the ground first?" she asked._

_The children pointed to the rock._

"_How about if I hold the rock higher than the pencil before I let them both go?"_

_The children now pointed to the pencil._

"_Let's see shall we?"_

_The rock and the pencil both landed on the ground at the exact same time._

"_Gravity is a force that acts constantly on everyone and everything. When a body free falls, it falls at the acceleration rate of 9.8 meters per second squared."_

Harry looked down at his feet where a pebble was resting innocently on the ground. He picked it up and held it in his hand, his arm outstretched before him. He let go.

It was in slow motion in his eyes as he calculated the velocity then the rate of acceleration: 9.8 meters per second squared. He picked it up again. Held it at the same height, and let go. Unknowingly, all he could think about was proving that nice teacher wrong. And as he calculated for the rate of acceleration once more, he grinned: 8.9 meters per second squared.

Ever since that day at the park, Harry spent a lot of time at the school library, reading thick texts of chemistry, physics, physical science, algebra, history, trigonometry and calculus. He was extremely happy that the high school and the elementary school libraries were combined so he was able to read books that he would not usually be able to access without a few raised eyebrows.

He didn't know how he did what he did, but he knew he was having fun. In the boys' toilets, he watched as he made water flow upwards. He made a fully-grown fly slowly de-age and become a maggot and then grow back. He made a spider unwind its own web, while dancing in the process. He walked on thin air five centimeters off the ground while his peers moved around him, oblivious. He was having so much fun.

After their original music teacher went on her maternity leave, the new substitute, Ms. Robinson, asked the class to pick up an instrument and try to play it as part of the first lesson. The entire class was very excited. Harry and his classmates watched their teacher show them how to play each of the instruments in the room before asking them to try. Dudley picked the drums and whacked at it with all his might. Some of the other kids picked the piano and it became somewhat hard to listen to even for those who took lessons. They played the pieces they were taught, albeit a bit off key. Most of the class chose to play the guitar, and tried imitating rock stars they saw on television.

Harry, on the other hand, picked up the violin.

"Are you sure you want to play the violin Harry?" his teacher asked.

He nodded. He had seen the finger movements and adjustments as well as the bow stroke along with its corresponding sound. All he needed now was to see how hard he had to press his fingers. He couldn't lie: the harder he pressed his fingers against the strings the more it hurt. Despite the pain, though, he knew that it was something that would dull over time and great practice.

A beautiful quivering note escaped from the violin as Harry tested it out. He smiled, feeling more confident, and started playing the piece Ms. Robinson played… only backwards.

The rest of the kids in class were cringing at the unusual music, and Dudley was laughing at him. But Ms. Robinson was looking at him with a pale face and surprised eyes. After he finished, she asked the rest of the class to have their recess, but asked him to stay behind. He was curious as to what she wanted to speak to him about since he caught the faces of the few of his classmates who were unable to play any instrument.

That was when he found out that once he saw something done, he could do it. And apparently, it was not common to possess that particular skill.

Harry, now age ten, remembered his surprise when he found out from Ms. Robinson that it was not 'normal' to be able to do the things he did with the violin, and later on with the piano and the flute which she made him try after watching her play each instrument. That was what got Harry to start wondering if the others couldn't make a rock fall at a different acceleration rate or make a maggot grow into a fly and back. He didn't understand. He thought at first that maybe it was because everyone wanted to follow the rules he read in books. Like how some followed the rules at school. Dudley broke a lot of those and never got more than a note sent home. So he figured it was okay to break a few of the rules he read. He didn't expect that the others literally _couldn't _break the rules.

Ms. Robinson called him a prodigy or little genius. He asked her to forget the entire thing happened. And amazingly, she did. He always held back at class, hence the worksheets being erased before submission. But he thought everyone did it since Dudley was a bully who didn't particularly like people who were smarter than he. He especially didn't like those he considered lower than he was getting higher grades than him. Harry understood that it was an unspoken rule that people didn't cross a bully that could get away with hurting them. So Harry broke that unspoken rule shortly after the violin incident. He got higher than Dudley by a whole grade point, but he found that maybe he didn't like to break the unspoken rules. He was locked in his cupboard with nothing to do for a week for doing that stint.

Harry was soon getting bored at school. He had read all the books that he could in the library and repeated a lot of them to the point of being able to correct a few published misinformation he discovered when he tried to break the rules in the books. Although he wasn't the type to memorize, he never forgot a term in his life and drank up every encyclopedia and dictionary he could get his hands on, including those in different languages. That was another funny thing about him. He could do all these things and most of them… he didn't even try to do.

One day, as he stood to fetch the mail, he had an odd sense of foreboding. And as he saw a cream colored kind of paper in between the white envelops and colored postcards, he knew why.

He handed over the rest of the mail to his uncle and made a mad dash to his cupboard. He opened his letter and read through it.

A whole new world opened up to him, and it was one full of magic and unexplored possibilities. He smiled as he finally found the explanation pertaining to the countless things he could do that others couldn't. As he read on to the course books, he smiled even wider. A whole new world and a whole new set of rules he wanted to see broken.

Authors Note: This was first written at three in the morning and posted a little after it was finished. It has now been edited and has hopefully, improved. SO please read and review! All comments are welcome and helpful critique is appreciated.

Top of Form


	2. Chapter 2

***05/03/09* EDITED and REPOSTED** As I said in the repost of the first chap, I am doing a thorough editing of my fanfiction and will update the chapters I previously posted with some minor and major edits. A received a review saying that the first chapter edited and the first chapter un-edited was one and the same. I beg to differ, the first chapter underwent a lot of minor changes so you have to really know the chapter to spot them. I am going to mostly make major edits for chapters 3 and 4. Those were the chapters I wrote… or plowed through really, when I was diagnosed with writers block. There isn't much editing for this chapter either. Just one or two really since I admit, this is my favorite chapter so far. So please bear with the wait for the reposting of old chapters and the posting of new ones, I am doing my best! So I present to you, 'Rule Breakers Convention Version 2.0!'

I got a review pertaining to the internet and the dates. Yeah, I overlooked that. I'm sorry! So I edited this, just a minor sentence change in one of the paragraphs. But aside from that, this is the same 05/01/09 version.

Chapter 2 – Rule Breakers Convention

It has already been established that the Potter family heir, young Harry James Potter, could do anything he set his mind to do. So when he went straight to the public library after reading his special letter, he didn't let a silly little thing, like it being closed for the day, get in his way. He closed his eyes tightly, concentrated hard, and phased right through the wall. Opening his eyes, he grinned mischievously as the dark library suddenly lay before him. So much for the rule that said that solid matter was unable to pass through another solid matter without changing the make or inflicting any damage on either. He mentally checked off that rule as broken.

Harry walked past the rows of desks with their individual lamps and stopped in front of the one he usually worked at. He turned on its lamp and a dull light shone in the area. He quickly set off into the numerous numbers of bookshelves only to return to the desk with a large and old tome in his hand.

If anyone were to see the '_Dursley's young criminal ward'_ bent over such a large book that was easily bigger than his head, they would have found it odd. If they saw the title of the profoundly large and heavy book, they would have been increasingly curious. So as Harry Potter continued to read 'Building London' written in the 1500's, he grinned another very mischievous grin.

'_And what was once an open area where the Kings Game roamed; shops were built upon to provide for the families of the soldiers that were called in for war. The families were brought into the land and given an opportunity to begin their lives anew. The shops that were built included the following: a few clothes stores, vegetable and fruit market stands, a meat market, a__**pub**__, a barbers, an orphanage and a small children's school. Many of the soldiers had left their children behind and most of the new village's population consisted of women and children, which explains the reason as to the lack of many other amenities.'_

Needless to say, Harry was a very smart little kid. He knew that it was very odd to have a pub built on such a land that was considered royally owned. The royal family must have consented to these shops before allowing them to open and logic stated that where clothes, vegetables, fruit, meat, haircuts, education and a place for the orphaned children to stay in were very essential to the villagers, a pub was very out of place. Especially since mostly children lived in that area.

He went back into the 'bookshelve jungle' and searched for books on Geography and construction. Returning with books that very easily competed with 'Building London's thickness and size, Harry found that not a single pub was ever demolished on the open area since then and no evidence supported that the pub was still there. But Harry also knew that there was a possibility that the books about building demolition and public vending registry did not have information about a pub that existed many years ago.

So little Harry Potter returned the books, closed the lamp, and phased out of the library. He had a field trip to attend and, if he got the coordinates right, it went straight to Charring Cross Road.

It didn't take Harry long to go through the rules of the universe listed in his little mind. If he was going to do something against the rules, he wanted to know which rule he broke. But there was a time he remembered when Dudley was chasing after him and he found himself on the school roof. Another rule he found himself breaking was traveling at the speed of light which man hasn't been able to do. It wasn't really a rule. It was just something he found that humans haven't done before so when he found himself on the roof a second after wishing himself away, he knew that there was another unspoken rule to break and this time, he wasn't going to let anyone know about it. The performance card/Dudley incident was still fresh on his mind.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. If he was going to travel at the speed of light that was approximately 3 times ten to the eighth power, he was going to make sure he ended up in one piece. He quickly thought of the latitude and longitude of Charring Cross Road, closed his eyes, then he heard a distinct pop.

When he opened his eyes he had to fight off a gasp from escaping his lips. He was able to conclude only one thing: this was not Charring Cross Road.

Everywhere he looked the people on 'Charring Cross Road' were in strange outfits of what looked to be more fitted monk clothes in different colors, matching them with what looked to be Halloween witch's hats, and some were carrying brooms! Harry felt like he just entered a Halloween story book.

"Hey kid! Watch out! Next apparitioners are coming in five!" a toothless old man told him as an archway appeared a little bit away from him.

Harry quickly moved closer to the man and a woman appeared on the spot he was in exactly five seconds earlier.

"Thanks a lot." He turned to the toothless man.

"No problem. Just come to me pub if you need anything. The names Tom." He said and turned away. The archway closed and Harry caught himself staring bug-eyed at the brick wall.

Little Harry couldn't help but feel he was suddenly warped into the time of King Arthur and Merlin. The buildings all looked like the 'ye olde English' type of buildings and Harry wondered how some of them remained intact. Young Harry even contemplated checking off 'time travel' from his list but decided against it until he found further evidence. He looked up and found a sign that proclaimed, 'Diagon Alley'.

Harry quickly started roaming the alley and looking at all the sights and sounds it had to offer. One thing was for sure though; he didn't like the smells it offered. Some of the people didn't seem to be as hygienic as the non-magic counterparts. He watched as the people of the busy street kept going up and down looking for one thing or the other. Harry got himself knocked to the ground by a man with platinum blonde hair who was being quickly followed by a small boy but neither of them offered Harry any help.

As Harry rubbed his sore bottom, he spotted a flicker of gold at the corner of his eye. It was a gold coin!

He picked it up and examined it. There was some sort of image of some person on the coin with some kind of series of numbers surrounding the edges of the coin. He watched as people traded silver and bronze coins as well as the gold ones with the shop keepers. That must have been their currency! He picked himself off the ground but kneeled down again and started collecting as many pebbles as he could find. Once he got around twenty of them, he looked at the gold coin very closely. Then he broke one of his favorite rules to break once again.

He broke down the pebbles into its base elements then broke it down even further. He giggled at the thought of all those scientists that would be after him if they knew he could even simplify an element! He took a few particles of oxygen, helium and other gasses surrounding him and focused it into the very basic structure of life. He then put it all back together again. He looked into his hand and smiled as he found twenty one very identical looking coins, although the series of number surrounding the edges were completely different. Harry figured that they worked the same way with the numbers on the non-magic currency. If all the coins he spent had the same serial numbers, he would surely be found out.

Anyone from the Wizarding world could debate that little Harry Potter simply made a form of transfiguration. Any normal witch or wizard could accomplish this feat. But when faced in front of a goblin, the transfigured coin will always turn back into whatever it was transfigured from. Harry Potter's coin cannot be turned back. He changed its entire make; it was no longer changeable into a pebble. Unless of course, little Harry Potter wanted it to.

Harry read his supplies list for the first time and frowned.

Did they think he was stupid? He was in First year? He was ten years old for Pete's sake! In the non-magical world, he would be entering his Sixth Year at Primary! Did they think that he could not handle the work since he was behind his Wizard peers? Sure they all knew about the lessons already and had a different type of knowledge in their heads but he was not going back to first year! He was already breaking the laws of the universe since he was five, just like them! Harry Potter was not a First Year. He would show them! He would make sure that if he entered another school, another world, he would at least continue his studies at the same level as he left or the next. He knew that in Sixth year at the non-magical world, they would be taking National Curriculum Tests so he had to be ready for the Wizard counterpart.

Of course, he didn't know that Wizard schooling started at eleven years of age. He didn't know that he was already ahead, if only slightly in the theory of it, of all of his age group and he was very blissfully unaware that he was also way past his Sixth year in knowledge in the non-magical world.

He entered the bookstore and approached a nice lady with a small gold tag on her chest that said 'Assistant Manager Kathy'. He prepared himself first: Wide eyes; check, Watery eyes; check, Quivering bottom lip; check, Biting the top lip; check, Batting long, moist, eyelashes; check.

He made himself a teensy bit smaller and tugged on her robe, making sure that he was playing with his feet and looking at the ground a lot.

"Aww, hey there little guy. What can I help you with today?" she asked.

"Umm… Ms. Kathy? I was wondering if you could get me the first to sixth year books for the Hogwarts curriculum?" he said in the most innocent voice that he could muster.

She stared at him then his doe eyes and smiled a bit. "Aren't those a little-" before she could finish, he had already felt that she would say no. If _plan A: look cute_ did not work, _plan B: play the victim_surely would.

"You see, I have five brothers and sisters and I got stuck getting the books this year. James is at the apothecary and Lily is at the cauldron shop. The others are with their friends today so I got stuck getting all the books." He whimpered. Oh how he hated doing this, but if it got the job done, then so be it.

"Oh! Well, if that's the case then I will be happy to help you with that." She smiled warmly at him and soon he found himself in the midst of six piles of high stacked books.

"Let me shrink those for you." She told him and he watched happily as the books were suddenly a thousandth of their size. A means of shrinking was already created in this world! That rule was broken! He couldn't wait to try that one out.

"Thank you Ms. Kathy." He smiled warmly at her. "How much do I owe you?"

"Wait, those are only the general class books. But the elective class books are over in that corner if you want." She motioned behind him. "After you pick the rest of the books, come up to the register and I'll ring it all up."

Harry thanked her again and got to the elective books. There were books on Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Medical Magic, and Mind Magic. Not knowing that the last two subjects were no longer Hogwarts curriculum, he picked out beginner to advance and mastery of all the subjects and made his way to the register. Kathy's eyebrows rose at the titles but didn't say a word. He had to pay all his gold coins, and was left with only one galleon, the original, and thirteen sickles left. He collected another twenty pebbles and was on his way around the ally once more.

Just a walk away however, another bookstore caught his eye. Obscurus Books. He went inside and found that it was not a bookstore, but a publishing company. They proclaimed that they published 'Fantastic Beasts and where to find them', a book Harry had bought only minutes ago. They had a small selection of books that were no longer in circulation and did not do so well at Flourish and Blotts. Those books were still being sold but each was the last non-publisher copy left.

Harry found several very interesting texts such as: Parselmouths: a history and biography, Find the Animal in you: Animagus training, and Metamorphmagi in training: a diary. He picked up a copy of each and found they cost ten galleons altogether. He put them in the shopping bag he got from Flourish and Blotts and left the publishing company. As soon as he was out though, he repeated the memory of Kathy shrinking his other books and just like how he copied Mrs. Robinson and the violin, the books shrunk as he wished them to. Five-hundred pounds of books were now in his pocket at a very leisurely two pounds. Harry grinned like a maniac.

Collecting the rest of his supplies was rather tedious as he had to do give the same excuse of five siblings to the apothecary to get the needed materials for years one through six. He got very bored when Madam Malkin measured him for his uniform and got rather annoyed when she commented on how small he was. He had to collect another twenty coins since once again, his pebble-coins were already spent. He made sure to keep the original galleon with him as a reminder of how it truly looked like. He went to Scribbulus Everchanging Inks for his parchment, quills and inks. He couldn't understand why a normal notebook and pen couldn't do the job, but he promised himself that he would practice writing with a quill since it was harder to use than a pen. He shrunk all of his things before he spotted a few people with what looked to be wooden trunks.

"Excuse me sir," he asked a heavy set man carrying a trunk with him. "Where did you buy your trunk?"

The man huffed a bit at the weight of the trunk but then bobbed his head over a dark alley that said 'Knockturn Alley'. After wondering why the man did not simply shrink the trunk, Harry thanked him and entered the dark alley. The first store he saw was the trunk store and he was very grateful for that. The alley was very dark and he couldn't help but be reminded of his cupboard on nights that his imagination ran away with him and scared him.

Inside the trunk store, a man with a long beard and a bald head was chopping some wood using what seemed like a stick with a blue light. It reminded Harry of a light saber.

"Excuse me sir, but I would like to purchase a trunk." He said in the loudest voice he could muster since he was afraid of not being heard over the sound of the stick.

The man stopped what he was doing and turned to Harry. "O' course! O' course! Right this way!"

Harry saw his fair share of regular trunks with just one compartment but when the man got to those with more than one, he happily agreed on the two compartment trunk. The man offered to show him more but Harry knew that he could just as use the shrinking charm in the opposite manner and make the inside of the trunk bigger. Two compartments were fine as long as the second compartment was a secret one so that the Dursley's couldn't get to his more valuable things. The man put in extra security spells and asked for a drop of blood from Harry. Harry was squeamish at first and looked away as a small dagger cut his finger. The man muttered something then the cut was fully healed. Harry made a mental note to read his books on Medical Magic soon.

Harry left the trunk shop five galleons poorer and was on his way to what he thought was his last buy of the day: a wand.

Harry didn't know what the wand was for of course. He hadn't needed a wand before. He stared at the shabby little shop and sighed before entering.

"Aahh, Mr. Potter. I was wondering when I would get to meet you." A voice spoke as soon as he entered and right before a bell tinkered.

Harry found himself face to face with the oldest man he had ever seen in his life.

"Well, come now. Which is your wand arm?" the man asked.

"Err… I haven't really ever held a wand before." Harry told him.

"Well then, which hand do you use the most? Maybe when writing something?" the man elaborated.

"I trained myself to be ambidextrous by writing with both hands but I do lean on my right hand a bit more with writing… though I use my left hand to do my tasks." Harry answered truthfully.

A tape-measure appeared out of nowhere and started measuring Harry in so many ways that Harry lost count.

"Well then, try this one. Rosewood, Dragon heartstring, thirteen inches. Swishy."

Harry held on to the long stick of wood but it was instantly snatched from his hand. This went on a dozen times before the man got a strange look on his face.

"I wonder…" he muttered. "Try this one Mr. Potter. Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry felt a relative warmth spread across his fingers when he held the wand and instantly, red and gold sparks emitted from the end.

"Very good then Mr. Potter, very good! Curious… very curious…" the old man then started to mumble again.

"Excuse me, sir, but it still doesn't feel at all very right." Harry spoke up.

The old man looked at him in surprise. "Not right?"

Harry nodded. "It's warm in my hand and I like it but there seems to be a part missing."

The old man's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. He went over to the wand that lay on the fading purple cushion then handed it to Harry.

Instantly, the feeling of something missing was completely gone as Harry held on to both wands. Gold and blue sparks instantly shot out of the phoenix wand and the old wand respectively.

"Even more curious Mr. Potter!" the old man clapped happily.

"What's curious, sir?" Harry asked.

"I remember every wand I have ever sold Mr. Potter. You're first wand's core came from a phoenix that only gave one other feather… just one other. And that wand, why, that wand gave you that scar." He said as his eyes went straight to Harry's forehead.

Harry filed away the information to look through once he got to Hogwarts. "And the other wand sir? What is it made of?"

The old man grinned so wide that he looked like a Cheshire cat. "Even I do not know its make. The first Ollivander to make wands made that one and it was the last one he made before he died. All that my ancestor passed on, aside from the art, was that wand."

Harry left the shop ten galleons poorer, he thankfully got a discount and instead of seven galleons each, he had paid only three for the phoenix wand as '_an apology for the scar that remains marred on your forehead'._

He patted his pocket that was full of books, a trunk, potion supplies, parchments, quills and inks. Just as he was about to 'light speed travel' as he liked to call it, he heard a distinct hoot from a store near him. He shrunk both his wands and put them in the shrunken trunk. He approached the shop called 'Eyelops Owl Emporium' and entered it. Inside he saw the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. It was a snowy white owl with a dark beak and piercing amber eyes.

"She's a beut, aint she?" the shop keeper asked him. Harry just nodded. "If you want, I'll sell her to you for five galleons. I'll even throw in her cage."

Harry handed the man the last of his made galleons and left the store with the owl in her cage. Harry didn't know whether he could shrink her or not. It was different working with living things and he already promised himself he would never hurt another being. The fly he had toyed with as a child was a painful reminder of that. He had first found it funny but after he made a spider unwind its own web, he realized that he was hurting them. It died shortly after, choking on its own web. He never used animals or insects with his rule breaking again. Unless they consented of course, like how one of Mrs. Figg's cats once allowed him to let the fur which Mrs. Figg had cut off accidentally, grow back faster. Harry sighed and opened the cage. The owl looked at him expectantly.

"I won't be able to keep you until the end of the summer. We won't fit in my cupboard." He told her then he picked up his pre-written reply to Professor M. McGonagall. "Bring this to Hogwarts. I'll be there come September then I'll name you. You do know where Hogwarts is, right?"

The owl merely stared at him.

"The letter did say to owl the reply…" he trailed off but before he could say anymore, the snowy owl leapt out of the cage and grabbed his letter, flying into the sky until Harry couldn't see her anymore. Harry wasn't entirely sure as to what owling a reply meant or how an owl could deliver a letter but he figured that if he didn't receive a reply, he could always just come back to Diagon Ally and ask. Harry shrunk the cage and put it in his pocket as well.

He went back to the spot where he had originally 'light speed traveled' and concentrated on Privet drive, specifically, his cupboard.

In a second he was at his desired destination and he grinned idiotically as he lay down in his cot. He still wasn't sure if he had time traveled but part of him felt that he did not and that rule was to be broken later on in his life. But that did not disappoint him in the slightest.

He had found more rule breakers like him and he had also realized that they all followed a set of their own rules. If he didn't know any better, he could have sworn that he just attended a Rule Breakers Convention. And with that thought, he drifted off into a peaceful nap. It was only three in the afternoon after all.

Authors Note:

Yes! The chapter is longer than the original! From 3000+ words to 4000+ words!

The most I edited here is the price of the stuff he bought. Altogether, Harry used 60 galleons instead of the 40 he did in the earlier version of this chapter. I realized that if anyone with 40 galleons could have bought all the things Harry did, why didn't they? They could have a better, larger library or better things. According to my favorite Harry Potter cannon site, hp(dash)lexicon(dot)org, 60 galleons is roughly 600 US Dollars.

For those who still want to, please send me ideas for this fic! I get soo many ideas from those who do as I expand and use the ones I really like. But don't worry! I will write in either my pre-chapter authors note or post-chapter authors note who the idea came from and write a proper thanks. But just so we are clear, if you send me an idea, its kind of allowing me to use it in my fic. But it also allows you to get what you want to happen, to happen! So win-win, right?

Note: No pairings yet!


	3. Chapter 3

***05/20/09* EDITED and REPOSTED**Okay, the edits in this chapter are both major and minor. Minor in the way that I tried making it a bit clearer and major in a way that one of the main problems Harry will and is facing in this chapter was completely changed. When he used to be struggling with a particular piece of transfiguration, he is now going to struggle with something else. The two problems (which will remain unnamed for now) are related and similar but also extremely different. So, without further ado, chapter 3!

Chapter 3 – The little engine *ahem* _Potter_ that could

We have already discerned that little Harry Potter was not 'normal'. Well, to society's standards anyway. So was it truly a surprise when eleven year old Harry Potter was all set and ready to go to a school for witches and wizards with knowledge of a third year Hogwarts student?

Harry frowned as he continued to read his book on Third year Charms. He was reluctant to admit it, but he couldn't quite comprehend some of his required school materials. In each and every one of his books, especially the subjects of Potions, Transfiguration and Charms, they spoke of such promising possibilities that they offered to the average witch or wizard seeking to better their magic capabilities. There were books upon books that they suggested a student read for further information on certain theories and practices. Harry had gone to Diagon Alley three times and had purchased all the recommended books. He quickly dived into the extra reading materials and soaked up the theories like a sponge but as soon as he saw the potential to develop his skills from the information, it would take it all back and strap onto him a set of his most hated enemies: restrictions… regulations… RULES.

So many limits… why couldn't the other rule breakers go past their idea of what could and could not be done? That was how breakthroughs were created. One had to set aside the thought of what one thought one couldn't do and try it out anyway. One might be surprised.

The young Potter heir was astonished to find that from the very beginning, wizards and witches learned about things that they could NOT do. LIMITS: that was what most of the subjects covered going into basics and what it backtracked into after the long and arduous task of going through numerous theories and laws. Harry did not agree with limits. There were quantities such as positive and negative infinity. If mere units used for measurement could have no limits, why should he?

But that's where the problem started. Without the set of limits that the books listed, he could not levitate even the lightest of objects. It was written in one of the books he had purchased that the main 'requirements' to perform magic were: wand, word and will. They were limits and considered the most basic of rules for young wizards and witches when performing feats of magic. They were the three basic ingredients needed to be able to 'make magic work'. It was _the_rule… _the_ limit… he scoffed.

Harry knew he didn't need a wand, but he tried levitating a quill using his anyway, hoping that the stupid quill would rise a few centimeters off the ground. Nothing happened. Harry went to the library to borrow a book in Latin verbal to ensure that he pronounced the spell correctly. He was, yet the quill remained stubbornly on the ground. He was certain he had the will to make the stupid quill levitate, so why didn't it?

Harry knew that there was a piece of the puzzle that he was missing and without it, he would not advance in his schoolwork. The rate he was learning in seemed so slow to him. After purchasing his books and materials, he dived right into studying them. He was determined that he would make the administration believe that he was too old to be in first year. He would make them see that he was too intelligent to be held back to a class that consisted of crying little five year olds. He would make it known that he, Harry James Potter, was an intelligent force to be reckoned with. He would never stand to be part of a class that consisted of little crybabies and spoiled brats.

He was eleven years old for the Queens sake. He should have been in sixth year that incoming school year! But now he had to settle for being placed in third… with whiny and immature seven and eight year olds… how embarrassing. Why couldn't he do it? He had memorized all the incantations; he had understood the theory behind each spell and could explain it backwards and forwards, fast forward or slow motion. But he just couldn't perform a simple charm. What was wrong with him?

And the worst part was that time was up. In a few hours, he would be on his way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was both anticipating and dreading his official entrance into the Wizarding world. Hedwig had returned a few days after his first excursion with an envelope tied around her leg. Inside the envelope were his train ticket and another letter from the Deputy Headmistress that said that they would be expecting him on September first. The ruddy owl then promptly flew off without his say-so… so much for an obedient pet. The ticket claimed that it was for a train called 'The Hogwarts Express' that was found at a 'Platform Nine and Three Quarters' it had declared was at King's Cross Station, Northwestern London.

Harry had all his things packed and his trunk was shrunk, a reassuring weight in his pocket. He was more than ready to light speed travel to this special platform. He had obtained the coordinated to King's Cross station and quickly went over it in his head. He closed his eyes shut and felt his magic work around him, disappearing with a loud pop. What e didn't see was his Uncle wrenching open the cupboard door, or hearing that lovely nickname his uncle had for him at the volume of a thunderous stampede of elephants.

"!"

He still couldn't believe they thought he was going to Stonewall. Oh, well.

Harry reappeared at a shadowed area in what looked to be the train station. He quickly sought out a platform guard to ask for the directions to this 'platform nine and three quarters', he wouldn't want to be late and miss the train. Before approaching one, he heard a loud bellow from somewhere near him.

"What's the platform number again?" a woman's screech-ahem- voice echoed towards Harry.

Harry looked around and noticed that no one else had heard, or even noticed the woman.

Another female screech-ahem again- voice followed, but this one was a tad bit higher pitched and sounded a lot smaller. "Platform Nine and Three Quarters!"

He turned to look at the two female voices only to see a large group of redheaded people with trunks and an owl. Harry's calculating mind was on overdrive. He assumed they were a group of rule-breakers but none of the redheads looked to be first years… no five year olds were present, and they all seemed to know where they were already going… What was the need to screech-ahem-shout out that particular question? And why did it seem that only he could hear them? Was it for the delight of the little girl with them? She seemed ecstatic to know that small tidbit of information…

Suddenly, Harry's mouth formed an 'o'. She must be 'special' and the family was doing their best to make her happy and needed… how heartwarming. He could probably hear them because they used a specific charm that could only be heard by wizards… that spell would be interesting to learn. It wouldn't do so well if their special daughter kept shouting out some Wizarding information where non-wizarding people were… they must cast that particular charm a lot.

Harry disregarded the family of redheads and went straight to platform ten. If his guess was right, then all he had to do was count the number of the brick barriers and divide it by four, multiply by three. He set out to do so and deduced the correct barrier. He felt around it and gasped when his hand went straight through. He grinned and walked through the barrier, missing the disappointed look the elder female from the pack of redheads had on her face as she glanced around the station.

The hustle and bustle of platform nine and three quarters was in full swing as there was only half an hour left before the train would depart. Harry quickly boarded the train and searched for an empty compartment. In the corner of his eye he saw the group of redheads but his view of them disappeared as he closed his compartment door.

Little Harry Potter resized his trunk and took out his Transfiguration book. He was going to try to cram all that he could before he got to Hogwarts. He was half way done when his compartment door flew open.

"This compartment available?" a male voice asked him.

He looked up and spotted red.

A boy about thirteen years old and another boy who looked just like the first were standing in front of him with huge smiles on their faces. Harry nodded and they strode in, tucking their trunks on the trunk compartment above the seats. The two sat down and stared at Harry, looking at him up and down.

"So err… what are your names?" Harry asked. He wasn't used to social situations such as the one he found himself in.

"Fred-" Harry noted that this twin had a distinguished freckle near his right eye.

"-And George-" this one had a similar freckle near his left eye.

"-Weasley." They said together and grinned.

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to be-" 'Fred' was interrupted when the door opened and a black boy entered with his hands cupped.

"Fred! George! I've been looking everywhere for you! I got to bring my pet tarantula this year!"

The thirteen year olds quickly forgot all about Harry and began talking amongst themselves. Harry took his book and continued reading, hearing the conversation as it flowed around him. These twins were troublemakers… rule-breakers… and Harry was delighted. He couldn't wait to see how many more were at Hogwarts.

Harry was able to finish his book and had started on his fifth year potions text. He was making strides in Potions because it was so similar to chemistry and Harry had grown fond of the particular subject before he knew of the Wizarding World. When the train stopped, he packed his book back in his trunk and shrunk it. It was comfortably in his pocket as he strode off the train.

"Firs' years! Firs' years!" a rather large man bellowed. Harry stared at him. There was something oddly familiar with the man…

A boy with platinum blonde hair pushed past him towards the large man and Harry felt an odd sense of déjà vu. He shrugged it off and went past the large man into what the other students were entering, carriages. He wasn't planning on being a first year and had no desire to show himself as such straight away. How embarrassing would it be if the first look majority of the school saw him as a first year on their first night? He wasn't stupid and knew that it could be deduced that he was 'slow'. No need for that thought to ever occur in the minds of his schoolmates.

He stared at the large black horses with leathery wings for a minute before entering a carriage. The twin boys and their black friend entered the carriage after him and gave him a nod of acknowledgment. They continued their conversation but this time, included Harry in their talk of past pranks and rating them one through ten. They even discussed future pranks and Harry was glad he could add in his thoughts on the use of a transfiguration trick to make a cat's hair elongate and turn into needles. He was somewhat reminded of Mrs. Figg's cats when they described some cat named Mrs. Norris.

As the carriages came to a stop Harry hopped off and his eyes went wide at the sight of the castle. It was humungous! Beautifully aged and preserved… it gave such a home-y aura and Harry liked it at once. He had a huge grin on his face as he followed the three towards a huge hall. He stared at the ceiling that was twinkled with stars and moving clouds. The moon cast a mournful glow and Harry almost sighed.

Harry sat down with the three as they now moved back into their discussion on tarantulas and their behavior to certain spells.

After about half an hour Harry was getting rather impatient. He still needed to speak with the Headmaster or the dean to get a placement test and he didn't even know what they were all waiting about for. He turned to the twins.

"Fred?" he called to the twin beside him. "What are we waiting for?"

Fred looked startled at being recognized sitting so close to his twin. "We're waiting on those first years. We can't have the feast without the sorting and the sorting can't start without the firsties."

George looked to Harry. "Which reminds me, what house are you in anyway? I don't see a crest on your robes-"

"And what year are you in? I mean, no offense, but you're kind of short for a second-" Fred added.

They were interrupted when the doors opened and two lines of eleven year olds walked behind a strict looking witch.

Everyone was quiet as she placed a stool in front of the Professors table and pulled a hat on top of the stool. Harry nearly guffawed in surprise when it opened its brim and began to sing.

"Hogwarts was made many years ago

By a great four of friends

Each of these four had different styles

To which their teaching commands

So specific traits they searched in each child

To see which founder would teach

So one by one, a test they gave

To receive students each

So Gryffindor took those

Bravery was what he sought

Ravenclaw adored those

Whose minds didn't tend to rot

Slytherin kept those

Who was great in their ambitions

Lady Hufflepuff served those

With Fair admonitions.

So do not fear,

I shall see,

Where you ought to be

For I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

No one can sort you but me!"

The hall clapped and the strict looking Professor returned with a piece of parchment.

"When I call your name, sit on the stool and place the hat on your head."

Harry stopped listening to her and turned to Fred and George. He overheard as they whispered in hushed tones about secret passageways and something about a stolen map. Apparently, the two had nicked it during the last school year. Harry was very interested in a group they called 'The Marauders'. They sounded like the group he needed to acquaint himself with. If half of the things the twins were saying were true, the group was both brilliant and loved rule breaking. They sounded like his kind of people and he was starting to get excited at the prospect of being part of such a group. He had never met anyone that came as close to himself than the group.

"Harry Potter!" the hall grew deadly silent and Fred and George stopped whispering. Harry, disappointed that the twins stopped talking about the infamous pranking group, turned to the strict Professor, wondering what was going on.

"Harry Potter!" she repeated, her eyes scanning the remaining first year students in the hall.

"Oh bugger." Harry swore and stood. He wanted to laugh at Fred and George's incredulous looks but jogged towards the Professor instead.

He smiled apologetically and went over to the stool and slammed the hat on his head. It fell past his eyes and a little bit after his nose. He breathed through his mouth.

He waited…

…and waited.

Was something supposed to happen? He didn't think the other students were having this much trouble over their 'sorting'. He sighed. Was he supposed to do something? Wasn't it a singing hat? Maybe he had to sing to it? He cringed. He remembered the last time he tried to sing. He hit a particularly wobbly note and his glasses lenses broke. Was he supposed to sing again? He wouldn't have recommended making him sing… But he did have a handy 'reparo' charm to fix whatever he needed to if he broke anything else this time…

After a while, he finally got too bored and tore the hat off his head.

The entire hall was bored. He could tell. Some people were clutching their stomachs, a hungry look in their eyes as they stared at a chubby looking eleven year old that reminded Harry of 'Pig' from Lord of the Flies, except the boy didn't have glasses. Some were chatting with their neighbors, pointing at various members of the student body and giggling… even the boys were giggling… Harry noted which students were pointed at the most.

He turned to the strict looking Professor and found she had sat down in a chair and the other eleven year olds were sitting on the floor.

"Excuse me, Professor?" he called her.

She was startled and almost fell from the chair. Apparently, she was half-asleep. The way some of the older students laughed, little Harry deduced that this wasn't her usual behavior.

"Yes?" she asked. "Is there a problem?"

Harry nodded. "After I place the hat on my head… am I supposed to do anything special?"

She looked confused.

"Didn't it speak to you?" she asked him.

Harry stared at her. "Speak? Oh! Was it supposed to sing to me? Phew. I thought I had to sing to it… that wouldn't have been pretty."

"Well, I think I need to speak to the sorting hat for a bit." A tired but amused voice asked from behind Harry.

Harry turned and saw the oldest man he had ever seen. He couldn't help but notice the eye-catching stars and galaxies pattern of the robes and all the WHITE. The old man was already pale and wrinkly but his hair was also white and a bit curly… probably because of the length. He bet that if it was cut, it would lay straight… Split-ends were evident too. Maybe it just needed a good brush… He didn't even look at the man's face. He was too distracted with the beard! How long does it have to be to get on the world record book? Was this man trying to get his name in the book?

The old man took the hat from little Harry and placed it gingerly on his head. The whole hall placed their attention back to their Headmaster who remained standing with the hat that fell just below his eyes. Harry fidgeted as some chose to stare at him instead. After a few minutes, the old man took the hat off and stared at Harry.

"What did I do wrong?" Harry asked, he could feel himself become a bit smaller, an instinct he had tried to get rid off after his uncle stopped spanking him. Apparently, he hadn't done a good job. This man's stare was unnerving. It was searching, calculating and… invasive.

Harry looked away and suddenly wished he had stayed bored with his head in a hat.

"Mr. Potter… would you please release the sorting hat?" the old man requested.

Harry turned back to him. "What? You have the hat."

"You see, the hat is a magical object… one that was created to be sentient. The source of its power, what allows it to sort and to come up with sorting song is its' sentience. And right now, it is entangled in your hair." The old man pointed at his head.

Harry looked up. There was a shining rainbow colored ball levitating above his head. Harry's eyes went wide and reached up. It was tangled with a hair of his. He untangled the hair and immediately, the ball flew right back to the hat and disappeared into its brim.

The hat was then slammed back on his head so hard that Harry felt like he was about to suffocate. He smiled a bit, what a rule to break! 'Death by Hat!' was a very memorable way to go, he joked. He even thought of a few witty lines he could have on his tombstone.

"It isn't every sorting that someone can separate my sentience from the hat." It sounded equally irritated… and amused.

"Err… was that a rule that no one could separate you?" little Harry asked.

"Technically, it's more of an accepted truth but I suppose it could be viewed as a rule…" the hat replied.

"Excellent."

"You are very different than the usual anxious first year." The hat told him.

Harry mentally scoffed. "I'm no first year. I refuse to go to class with five year olds."

"Wizarding Education starts at eleven."

That simple sentence suddenly brought Harry to a heart-wrenching stop.

"…at eleven?"

"Of course, oh… I see it right here. What a laughable idea! Your comparison of Wizarding and Muggle schooling… well, considering your background, I guess we should have expected this somewhat. In any case, you seem to know a lot about the theory of the magicks until a little before fourth year. But no practical work. You'll need practical even more than theory. I wouldn't ask for advance placement just yet. Try to apply the theory you've learned in the classroom setting first." The hat advised.

"Okay…" Harry sighed, a bit put down but brightened when he thought of a question to ask. "So how did I separate your sentience from the hat?"

This time, it was the hats turn to sigh. "That's a conversation for another time. I am very interested in your mind. We should chat again… not too soon. Come to me in one years' time. I'd like to pick your brain after a years' worth of Hogwarts curriculum."

Harry nodded, stifling a yawn. He had been up since dawn studying after sleeping at midnight and he was getting tired.

"You have no idea how many rules you're already broken since arriving, do you?" the hat asked.

Harry perked up immediately. "I've already broken rules? Which ones? Tell me!" he asked excitedly.

"I pity the house you enter." It scoffed.

"I pity the houses I _don't_ enter." He replied.

The hat chose not to comment on his reply. "It's best I sort you now. Let's see then. Plenty of courage. Brave beyond reason too. A very Gryffindor trait. Ah, an eager learner. Ravenclaw is definitely an option. Very cunning and ambitious. Slytherin would have favored you. Is there more? Yes. The scales have been tipped. I know where to put you."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Harry took off the hat, strode to his house table and sat down. The people at his table were clapping wildly and some even shook his hand. Harry smiled politely and introduced himself and they did the same. He tried to remember as many names as he could. The remaining sorting was fairly quick and the old man once again stood.

"Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts! We are already running late so without further ado, Tuck in!"

The fervor of the students as they breathed in the food was never to be forgotten… especially since the professors were not as distinguishable from the savage-like manners of the students to their own table manners that night.

Harry followed the prefect, yawning, but managed to get at least a rough path to where his common room and dormitory was in. The prefect muttered 'puffdorrinclaw' before the common room appeared before him. He smiled at the colors. They would no doubt irritate him one day and he would love to try out some of his theories in this very room.

He yawned widely before simply spelling his clothes into night ones before lying on top of his covers to sleep. With all the things he had done that seemed to be 'impossible' he couldn't help but smirk in his sleepy-state. He had even broken rules he had not been aware of! He would go straight to that 'Mr. Filch's office as soon as he could the next day. The list of rules and banned items was apparently tacked to the man's door.

Little Harry yawned as he got up and closed his black drapes. He lay down properly under his covers and reminisced. He remembered the first rule he broke, the first word he spoke and the first book he had read. It was a little children's book that Dudley had thrown at Harry and forgotten about around eight years prior. It was about a little engine that 'thought it could' and defied the odds of what was deemed 'impossible'. Apparently, he was the little Potter that could.

Authors Note:

Finally! I'm done with this editing! I hope you all like it, I changed the first half the most and edited a few from the second half of this chapter. Mainly, Harry's problems in Magic are different and I hope to expand upon it in the next chapter. I am currently working on it and it should be out sometime in the next month. I just transferred universities so I am very busy. I hope you all spare me some of your patience and continue to read Prodigal Delinquent! Please review!

Btw, if you wanna read another humor fic with lots of original ideas and random-ness, check out my other fic! Zonkers! I promise, it is very original. A lot of the ideas that don't fit for Prodigal, I usual use for Zonkers. So, if you have time, it would be my pleasure to quench your desire for funny Harry Potter fanfiction!


	4. Chapter 4

***22/11/09* EDITED and REPOSTED**I'm sorry. I know I haven't updated for a very long time and it would have probably seemed ridiculous to you guys since I've already written these chapters, I was just editing them. But the truth is, a while back, my entire hard drive crashed. I had thankfully saved a copy of my fanfic in my usb. But the sad truth is, it had obtained a virus and was reformatted. **So, this is not an edited version of chapter 4. This is a totally new version that I started from scratch**. For those that read the original, this is not it. I can't say I remember every single detail that I incorporate in each chapter. So, this is basically a New Chapter 4. Hope you guys like it, and again, I am very sorry for the wait.

NEW RE-POST! A reader, Siaru, apparently archived some stories he was reading and my story was one of those. He sent me a copy of my original 6 chapters so I was able to incorporate some of the old Chapter 4 into this new chapter this morning. I am eternally grateful to Siaru!

Btw, I'm getting reviews saying that Harry acts a lot younger than 11. The reason is that I have read so many fics where Harry is oh-so-mature and acts a lot older than he is with smarts to boot. I thought why not get him to really have a wonderful childhood...in Hogwarts? Let him be immature and smart. It's not like the Dursley's were mature role-models that he could imitate. So yeah, basically that's it.

Chapter 4 – The Wish to Be Small

It is often said that 'Reverse Psychology' can do wonders. Children, and even adults, that are told "not" to do an act are more likely to do the opposite of what they are told and perform the act when told not to. It's human nature, curiosity as to why something, or some act, is forbidden.

Young Harry Potter was always a... fan of the forbidden. And so, on his first day at his new school, Harry was found levitating three-feet off the ground and skimming the long list of forbidden items and acts tacked to the caretakers' door.

Harry frowned at the sheer number of items on the list. He knew that this institution was one that was highly revered in the rule-breakers world. Hogwarts, A History had told him as such. But why were some rules, such as: No Magic in the Corridors, in place? How was one able to practice Magic, when one was not allowed to perform Magic? They were bonkers, the lot of them.

He sighed and let himself down. He had a lot of thinking to do. If he were to break every single one of the rules he had just read, he had to do it as subtly as he could. Experience had taught him that if one wanted to break the rules, one must know how to get away with it.

He was in such deep thought that he did not realize someone; or rather, something hovering over him with a bucket full of mud.

Harry just blinked when he suddenly felt a sticky brown liquid sliding down his robes and the harsh five-in-the-morning-air engulf him in its icy embrace. He looked up and saw a floating tiny man, a bit taller than the small professor he saw at the welcoming feast, with outlandish clothes: his hat covered with faintly tickling bells and his bright orange bow tie distracted Harry for a minute.

"Ickle Firstie is all wet! Peevesy gets you some help. Oh, Mr Filch!" the man shouted.

Harry continued to stare at him through the grime falling down his face and clothes. "Are you a ghost then?"

Peeves shook his head. "No, no, no!"

"Then what exactly are you?" Harry asked; his curiosity piqued.

Peeves puffed out his chest with pride and said, "A Poltergeist!"

Harry's smile suddenly became one of mischief.

Even after recruiting the poltergeist to assist in executing his hopeful endeavours, most of Hogwarts occupants were barely even aware of the outside world thus little Harry Potter had free reign over the castle… of course, he didn't know that. He walked around the castle, making a mental map of the area as he went. He couldn't help himself, however, from occasionally making loud noises in the empty corridors if only to hear his voice echo repeatedly in the empty halls.

He was truly feeling overwhelmed with the majesticity of it all. Harry was much too excited about his first day at a Magical Education Institution. He could only fathom the ages of knowledge that was about to be imparted to him by his Professors, the limitless imaginations and creativity of his classmates and fellow rule-breakers, and the unbelievable amount of rule-breaking to be done! Ever since his talk with the Sorting Hat, he had allowed himself to 'ease-off' on the texts for his future years, choosing instead to discover and break as many rules as he could while remaining below the grid.

His thoughts returned to that of the Rule-Breaking group called 'The Marauders'. The probability was that the people who made up the group would be older than the Weasley twins, making the students from third year and up to be prospective members. According to what he had 'overheard', there were four members of the group and each had something to add to the groups brilliance. Little Harry Potter's first task was to get himself acquainted with the members of the group and prove to them that he was no ordinary first year. But they alone would be privy to that information. After all, a caught rule-breaker was not a good rule-breaker. If his plans worked out perfectly, he would hear from them soon.

Another thing he had to discover was the 'pecking-order' of the Student Body. At his former school, Dudley was the King and any 'new piece of meat' had to pay respect if they did not want him to pay special attention to them. Of course, no matter what Harry, or anyone, did, he would always be Dudley's favourite punching bag. He had to find the Bully of this school and make sure that he was not on their bad-side. After all, if he was on their to-bully list, it would certainly give him motivation to prank the bully. If he was on the good/ignore list, he would be looked over.

Setting those thoughts aside, he sat down at his house table and quickly started to grab whatever was close to him, which happened to be the toast, oatmeal, and bacon. He quickly grabbed two slices of toast, dolloped on two large spoonfuls of oatmeal on one, crunched two strips of bacon into bits and started to sprinkle it on the oatmeal. Putting the two slices of toast together, he had his very first oatmeal-bacon-toasty; a meal he would later be remembered for throughout all of Hogwarts.

Of course, in his excitement of his first day and the prospect of his delicious breakfast, he did not notice the hordes of students stare at him and whisper to their neighbours.

"_Can you believe it? Hufflepuff!"_

"_I heard no one in his family has ever been anything other than a Gryffindor."_

"_Do you think whatever You-Know-Who did to him made him a bit wrong in the head?"_

Little Harry Potter paid them no mind as he continued to munch on his chosen breakfast meal. After being handed his schedule, he quickly went to his dormitory and collected all the things he needed but faltered when he saw the two wands in his trunk. He had read that only one wand would be required and he had read in Hogwarts a History that one wand was all that was ever used. Having two was unheard of, and Harry did not want to put attention on himself. The more he was in the spotlight, the harder it was to go about unnoticed while he broke rules.

He quickly decided that he would break rules with his mystery wand, while he went to class with his phoenix wand. He packed them both in his bag and headed towards the Transfiguration classroom for his first ever Magic Instruction class, not before waving goodbye to his fellow puffs. They just stared at him incredulously.

As he entered, the classroom was empty save for a Gryffindor girl and a cat. Young Harry stared at the cat before shrugging and finding himself a seat at the middle of the room. He didn't notice the young girls' eyes widen before she went red and turned to face the front of the class.

Harry was carefully observing his surroundings, the classroom looked like a regular classroom. Something one would find at a regular school, with a few differences of course. For one, it was lit by candle light. Another, was that they used parchment, quills and ink to take notes. Those were only few differences but the basic construction was the same: desks for the students, a table at the front for the teacher, a blackboard for the teacher to write down important lessons, and a front and back door. Harry couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed. Why didn't they have a class on the ceiling? It would certainly be a lot more exciting and prove to the students that magic, or rule-breaking, was encouraged within the classroom when it was restricted outside of it. They could also certainly do with more encouragement. It seemed like the Institution actually stifled Magic-using, which was extremely idiotic in little Harrys opinion.

Soon, the entire classroom was filled with the exception of two seats at the very back of the class. Someone was running late.

"Made it!" a boy with red-hair and looked a bit like the Weasley twins cheered when he ran into the room with a boy with sandy hair. "Told you we'd find it Seamus. She's not even here yet!"

At that moment, the cat that was curiously sitting on the Professor's desk jumped off and morphed into an elder woman with a pointy hat, dark green robes, grey hair in a bun, and a pair of spectacles.

"Weasley, Finnigan! Would you care to explain why you are late for my class?" she prompted.

"Err... we got lost." Weasley replied, quite frightened.

"Perhaps a map then. Now sit down so we can begin."

Little Harry was still staring at his Professor. She just turned into an animal at will! And she changed back at will! Morphing from one form to another had mentally been placed higher in his list of things to do.

"Now, Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned." At the astonished nods of the class, she continued. "Transfiguration is the art of turning one object into another. In your latter years at Hogwarts, you will be able to turn inanimate objects into animate ones, as such." She flicked her wand and her desk immediately turned into a pig, it was snorting its discomfort but grew silent when Professor McGonagall turned it back into a desk.

Harry frowned when he heard the pig squeal.

"Now I want you all to copy down what I write on the board. Then we shall discuss the finer points of this theory."

The blackboard suddenly multiplied and all four boards were suddenly filled with writing. Grabbing a piece of parchment, ink and a quill, Harry started to copy down what was written while frowning at the content.

His excitement for his first class was quickly ebbing away as the class continued to do nothing but discuss the finer points of his already-known theories.

Little Harry was disgusted to find that at the very beginning of Magical Instruction, they were taught the most common and must-be-followed enemies of magical existence: RULES. The theory being depicted was one of the wand, word and will rule that Harry had gone over during the summer. Harry cast a cursory glance at his own wand, or wands as it was his case, and frowned at the fact that it still had not done any bit of magic in his hands. He was able to do most spells in his textbooks without his wands but with the pieces of sticks in his hands, he was unable to do many of the spells listed in his textbooks, though he was able to do some transfiguration with his mystery wand and a few charms with his phoenix wand.

He waited for the discussion to be over, grunting at the apparent lack curiosity of his classmates at what would happen if the rules would be broken. They all just nodded their heads and accepted that 'some things just can't be done'. As his boredom continued to grow, he decided to observe his classmates and consider which one could be the potential bully.

He noted that his fellow puffs were listening carefully to what the Professor was saying though none of them could hold a candlestick to the attention a Gryffindor girl was paying to her head of house. Harry was slightly worried she would keel over, dead, if said Professor would look at her in an approving manner. She seemed to be one of the few who were enjoying the class. Unfortunately, no one else stood out to him so young Harry just turned back to the front of the class and rehearsed his plan over in his head.

Finally, after an hour of torture…err… lecture, they were each given a matchstick and were tasked to transfigure it into a needle. Everyone took out their wands and started to put the Wand, Word, and Will rule into practice. Every single one of his classmates quickly started trying to transfigure the object but Little Harry Potter passionately glared at his matchstick. It was not a friendly looking matchstick and in fact, it was the worst looking matchstick he had ever seen. It was sitting there, all innocent looking with its red flammable head and light brown wooden extension. Oh, how he hated that matchstick. That offending thing represented all the rules and guidelines he had to follow in that very classroom and it took all of his effort not to simply light it on fire, as it was its purpose.

"Is there a problem Mr. Potter?" his Professor asked.

Harry quickly turned to her and cast the saddest look he had ever plastered on his face. "It's just... well, this is all a bit new to me. I'm afraid I find this all a bit overwhelming." He said, fake tears glittering his eyes.

The Professor's look visibly softened before she patted him on the head and whispered, "You'll get it dear. Just try.", before moving towards another student.

"Psst." He stopped his little glaring contest and looked at a puff beside him.

"Yeah?"

"Why don't you try turning the matchstick into a needle?" his fellow puff; Wayne Hopkins was it, asked.

Harry shrugged. "I don't want to turn a matchstick into a needle."

'Not if it would confirm that idiotic rule she's enforcing on us.' he thought.

"Why not?" Wayne asked.

Little Harry sighed. He didn't want to tell this boy why he hated Transfiguration. He eyed Wayne, observing him critically. Wayne had light brown hair, fair-skin and hazel eyes. Harry noticed that Wayne's matchstick was pointy but the red head and wooden extension remained.

"Just try it." Wayne insisted.

Harry sighed. Here was the thing, little Harry didn't want to follow the rules. He lived to break it. In class work, he didn't want to follow the rules set down since it conflicted with his belief that rules were unnecessary and unappreciated… in his book anyway. And how he dealt with McGonagall proved that he could get away with having no class work… for now. He didn't want to follow the rules of the universe… the rules of the class… the rules of this rule-breakers world. He wanted to play with all of it.

"It's not that hard." Wayne insisted even more, trying to convince little Harry. "I haven't gotten it yet but I bet we both can. Badgers are hard-workers and all, right? We might even score our house a few house points."

Harry stared at the matchstick. He was a rule-breaker. But wasn't his motto 'Never get caught'? Maybe this was an unspoken rule… follow the rules at class. Only in class. But in the real world… the rule-breakers world… it was free for all!

Harry smiled at Wayne and said, "Okay."

That day, only a few people were able to turn a matchstick into a needle including: Hermione Granger, the unofficial teachers pet, Susan Bones, unofficial smartest girl in Hufflepuff, Seamus Finnigan, the boy lucky enough to still have his eyebrows no matter how small or burnt they were now, and Harry Potter, Transfiguration's worst enemy.

Little Harry Potter left the Transfiguration Classroom with a smile on his face. He now had a game-plan. In class... follow the rules, shudder. Outside of class… well, they would all see that night at dinner.

Little Harry Potter wanted to scream out in frustration as for the fourth time that day, he was being introduced to his enemies. Transfiguration was only the beginning. In charms, he had to undergo being taught that pronunciation was vital in spell casting, being given the example of a wizard who found himself with a buffalo on his chest. Harry wanted to point out that the particular wizard was probably an idiot but restrained himself. In Herbology, certain plants had to be tended to specifically in certain environments and that some would never survive in particular times of the year if planted at the wrong season. Harry had already broken tons of plant-rules at Privet Drive! His aunt Petunia didn't know it, but her rose bush could bloom during winter if Harry were to choose to do so. And now, in the one Magical Course Harry had been anticipating, he was learning that each stir would ultimately affect the outcome of the potion. He wanted to cry. He had broken so many rules in Chemistry already, he had been dying to break some in Potions.

As Harry lay on his four-poster bed, he stared at the ceiling above him. So far, these so-called rule-breakers were only teaching him frauds. He had spent his entire lunch break and free period breaking the rules that were imposed on him that day. He disobeyed the Wand, Word, and Will rule once more by turning every single desk in an empty classroom into needles by saying "Haystack!". He kept levitating the feather he was given at the end of Charms by saying "Wingodrium Levitoasta!". He had taken a few seedlings from the Greenhouses earlier that day and planted them in STONE. According to the book, they would die at that time of year but after Harry had planted them with such vigor, they bloomed and angry red flowers quickly blossomed. Harry concocted a potion by placing the ingredients in the wrong order and stirring in the exact opposite way he was supposed to, but still procured an adequate potion that would surely execute his will later that night. Harry was sure that all the Professors were aiming to drive him mad!

"Hey, Harry. You want to come down to dinner with the rest of us?" interrupted Wayne Hopkins.

Harry sat up at once. His musing would have to resume later on. There was a plot to be had and Marauders to impress.

"Of course I'm coming to dinner!"

Little Harry almost blinked repeatedly in disbelief at how smoothly his plan was going.

He would admit that he was not exactly the social type of child. Growing up, he did not have any friends and had as little human contact as he could manage. For his plan to get noticed by the Marauders to work, he had to start working on getting each house to look at him with favourable eyes. He needed to be everybody's friend. He needed to be the 'nice-boy-who-wouldn't-hurt-a-fly' so that none would suspect him if any of his rule-breaking would come to light.

He planned to try to sit with his year-mates first, his house then the next three. But he didn't quite realize until he was already at the Great Hall that his year/house-mates were trailing behind him, ready to strike up conversation if he wished so. As he sat down, they had sat around him, watching him with bated breath. He decided to take advantage of the situation and started to converse with them, putting up a kind-smile on his face. They all easily opened up to him, telling his of their lives before Hogwarts and what they wished to achieve when there were to Graduate. Some older years also joined into the conversation and soon the whole table immediately warmed up to the once anti-social young boy. He told them how he grew up with no knowledge of magic at all, forgetting to mention that it was only because he didn't particularly know it was called magic. The M word was forbidden in the Dursley home. They all readily forgave him first anti-social self.

After he ate, he spotted the Weasley Twins at the Gryffindor Table beckoning him to join them.

"Well, if it isn't-"

"-our little-"

"-friend?" The twins greeted as he sat down at a space they freed for him.

Harry just smiled at them. "So how was your first day?"

"Oh, you know-"

"-same old, same-"

"-old. Which brings-"

"-up the question-"

"-of why you-"

"-didn't tell us,-"

"-you were a-"

"-first year, and-"

"-Harry Potter, to-"

"-boot!" they said, jokingly, letting him know that they held no ill-will.

"Didn't come up, I suppose." Harry smirked. Then he turned towards the youngest Weasley boy and smiled at him. "We haven't been formally introduced. I'm Harry Potter."

The young red-headed boy went red and stuttered. "I'm Ron. Uhh... This is Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom. We're the Gryffindor First Year boys."

Harry greeted each in turn and asked them about themselves. It quickly became a re-enactment of the Hufflepuff acceptance as they shared their life-stories with him and he told them a bit about his life, only to let them let him off the hook for apparently acting anti-social. After some time, he excused himself and went off towards the Ravenclaw table.

After sitting next to a boy with light hair and fair skin, he introduced himself to them and smiled as they started talking about the lessons they had that day. It was a great difference from the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables. Where Hufflepuff readily accepted him, he realized that being friends with the Weasley twins had gone a long way with the Gryffindor house. They only started to actually speak to him openly after he had his conversation with the twins. Ravenclaw, however, only spoke to him about academics and debates on Magical theory. Personal Information was not exchanged, aside from names. He found it refreshing that others shared his disdain for some of the rules, they depicted historical evidence of some wizards reportedly only needing a wand movement and will to cast some spells. Elder years told them about 'Silent Casting' which explained the rule being broken by some others.

"But it's fairly difficult. They start teaching it to the Sixth Years here at Hogwarts. I reckon the rule is told to first years so that you don't end up hurting yourself by deriving from it." A Sixth Year Ravenclaw told them. Harry didn't agree to the Professors lying about a rule being real when it was constantly broken, but didn't voice his comment.

After proving his intellectual worth was enough for one worthy of Ravenclaw himself, Harry excused himself once more and approached the Slytherin table. He smiled at them, something they did not return. A tentative seat opened up next to a blonde-haired boy Harry recognized.

"So finally making your way to our humble little table, Potter? Come to finish doing your rounds?" the boy sneered at him.

Harry ignored the insult and stared at the blonde-haired boy, familiarity overcoming him. "Have we met before? You seem familiar to me."

The blonde-haired boy grinned at him. "Of course you would recognize me! The names Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. My Father is an important man in the Ministry and our Family has been a Noble and Pure one for Generations! This is Pansy Parkinson, Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, Theodore Nott..."

Harry was basically introduced to everyone on the table. He was astonished to find that even those that sat farthest from him in the Slytherin table looked up in greeting when Malfoy called their name. Harry had found his Bully. Malfoy was probably pleased that he seemed to have heard of or seen him before. Eventually, as Malfoy continued to speak, Harry recognized him as the boy who pushed him down once in Diagon and another time at the Platform. He didn't voice his discovery.

The Slytherin table was similar to that of Hufflepuff, Gryffidor and Ravenclaw. Some of them were completely accepting, like Hufflepuff, to what he had to say. Others asked him questions about the things he told them about his life, as if to ensure his truthfulness. They were testing him, which is what the Gryffindors did. The two houses were both proud and a force to be reckoned with when angered, but also gave credit where credit was due. They were like Ravenclaw in the sense that most, if not all, were all also intellectually chagrined by some teaching prospects. They told him of a ghost teaching History of Magic, he would have a class the next day and find out if the Professor really was as boring as they said. The four houses were similar, yet categorically different and Harry was glad he had passed into each one without harm.

Soon before the Feast would be over, Harry excused himself one last time before heading towards his own table. When he was only a few steps away, a mighty crash forced the Great Hall doors to open and slightly unhinge. Its head almost hitting the very top of the doorframe, a large suit of Armour cackled. It threw dust into the air and it covered the entire hall. Every person that was Second-year and above suddenly became partially paralyzed; their legs were unable to move and their hands seemed to have grown their own minds and would follow what they wanted them to do. Their wands also went flying through the air right into the armours mouth. After taking a large, dramatic gulp, the Armour cackled again before shouting,

"FIRSTIES DIE FIRST!"

The First Year students all stood and started screaming, running around like headless chickens. Unfortunately for Harry, he was nearest the suit of Armour and it quickly picked him up.

"LET'S SEE HOW GOOD A FIRSTIE COULD TASTE."

Harry pointed his wand at the armour and red-sparks came out of it. The Armour cackled again before throwing Harry high up into the air and swallowing him as he fell into the armours steel plated mouth.

Harry braced himself as he hit the cold and hard ground. He levitated himself a few inches from the ground, making sure that he did not get hurt, but kicking the armour right after to make a hollowed noise that would make the others believe he fell straight in and was possibly hurt.

He could hear screams and crying from his fellow first years and suddenly frowned. They didn't believe this was real, did they?

Wands littered the bottom of the armour and Harry couldn't help but tinker with some of them. They were timed to react only when they used particular spells. He didn't particularly know who their owners were but finding out would also be immensely satisfying and fun. Looking above him, he saw Peeves salute him as the poltergeist continued to move the armour and have fun with the firsties. Harry knew something had gone wrong with the prank when peeves suddenly looked frightened and started stuttering quietly. Without another moments breathe, Peeves left the armour and disappeared. Harry's mind boggled.

"Now, I think that was enough. Are you hurt?" a deep voice asked Harry.

He turned around and the scariest looking ghost was looking right back at him. Silvery liquid seemed to be falling all over the ghost, disappearing before it touched the floor.

Harry shook his head and the Ghost grabbed all the wands, flying out through the mouth. He heard the cheers of the students and Professors as they were re-united by their wands. Harry gulped, thinking he had been found out. A hole pierced the side of the armour and Harry's Charms Professor stood in front of him.

"You alright, Mr. Potter? I believe you must be quite shaken. Mr. Longbottom and Ms. Li have been sent to the Hospital Wing. Do you need any assistance?" he asked him. Harry shook his head and was helped down towards his housemates.

A bang caught his, and every student's, attention and once again, all eyes were on their headmaster.

"I regret what has occurred this night. Our resident Poltergeist must have conceived this to be some hilarious prank to scare first years. It had gone astray however, and he will be reprimanded. If anyone is in need of medical attention, please proceed to the Hospital Wing. Mr. Potter, if you would please proceed to my office."

Harry gulped. One day, it was all it took for his rule-breaking to be discovered. Oh how he rued it. The Marauders would never contact him now. He was too flashy. He should have started small.

Authors Note:

So there it is. The long-awaited Fourth Chapter! What did you all think? I'll try to update soon.

For those that want another good read, please check out my other fic Zonkers! And a friend of mine just posted an action fic called 'The Cipher', its in my fave stories. It's cool and I love his ideas for later chapters but he is discouraged coz he hasn't gotten a single review yet. I hope you guys help me out with encouraging him coz it's his first fic! And please read 'Till Death Do Us Part I' by my beta-reader too! She's awesome.


	5. Chapter 5

***10/26/11* EDITED and REPOSTED –**I'm so sorry for the delay! Without further ado...

Chapter 5 – Rediscovering Gravity

Little Harry Potter sighed mournfully as he stared at a large drop of slimy green goo slowly make its way down from the brim of his wizards hat. The goo covered him almost entirely from head to foot and was already a flooding the floor by a few inches. He bent over and scooped up a handful of goo and watched it as it slowly dripped down from his overturned cupped hand.

Children, especially young children, would cry, shout, scream, jump up and down, and do all sorts of things when they are upset. The difference between them and a very young Harry Potter is that ever since he could remember he always excreted thick slimy bright green, slightly transparent goo from his skin when he became upset. He would always flood his cupboard, being careful to keep the goo within its walls. And so, Harry found himself inside a broom cupboard on a beautiful Saturday morning excreting the same green goo he did excreted as a child.

Harry was upset. His first prank had not gone over well. The headmaster had called him in to his office, something that had never happened in his other schools, and asked him about the prank. Fortunately, he was not suspected of being involved, let alone the mastermind, of the prank and the headmaster was genuinely concerned with young Harrys mental health over the incident. Harry left the office a few minutes after entering with a handful of lemon drops and a promise to come to the headmaster if he ever needed to talk about the incident further.

But that was not what had gotten young Harry upset. It had already been a week and the Marauders had not contacted him. They had ignored his prank, his succeeding smaller pranks, and the credit for his pranks seemed to go straight to the Weasley twins, Fred and George. He continued to excrete the odourless slimy luminescent green goo and sighed even more heavily. Was he really that much of an amateur that the Marauders paid him no mind, thinking his carefully devised, albeit compulsive, prank was nothing to even consider?

The students whose wands he had charmed had all gotten their skin turn different shades of whatever spell they had been using, Harry had made sure that the spell only activated when they used the levitation spell and would manifest slowly according to the colour their next spell took. Even Fred Weasley was pranked and for two whole days no one confused one twin for the other. Fred shone like a bright red TNT stick, ready to explode at any minute. Fred found it hilarious and George was, figuratively, green with envy.

The only drawback he could conceive with his prank was that now he alternated between houses per night during dinner. He couldn't change that since people would wonder why he had done so on the first night and not on the consequent nights.

His classes weren't improving in terms of enjoyment either. Even Charms which Harry so looked forward to. Why, you ask? Because it was the only class where someone would be shorter than he and that person was even the Professor!

He kept chanting 'Must not stand, point and shout, "You're shorter than me!"' repeatedly throughout his first few lessons.

However Charms suddenly became very much like Transfiguration in a sense that the first few meetings were filled with Harry's hated things: rules. Professor Flitwick told them of laughable tales of wizards who mispronounced certain spells and ended up in humorous situations. But that made little Harry Potter's eye twitch a little every time another story was told.

He had NEVER used an incantation before he came to Hogwarts but marked that rule off as an unspoken rule.

Little Harry Potter left the class with a pensive look on his face. He decided to raise his spirits during his break to have some fun in an empty charms classroom. The sixth years who eventually used the classroom later that week came out of it with so many different hair colors, skin colors, polka dots, and animal sounds coming from them that they were all excused and in the hospital wing for two days. This was another calling card for the Marauders which had eventually turned up having no reaction from the legendary rule-breakers.

Harry had even almost been late to his first Potions class, something his elder Hufflepuff housemates recommended him to avoid if he valued his life. He however, had his light speed travel so he was able to carefully plot the coordinates in his mind, hold on to his belongings and..he felt like he was hitting a brick wall and his body hurt. With perseverance, however, he was able to get to the dungeons on time. And that was the first time he had encountered the MerVamp.

Young Harry Potter felt eyes on him and a warm breathe on his head. He looked up and all he could do was twitch his eye. The man hovering over him had to be some kind of merperson and vampire cross. The hair… it was so slimy it had to have just been in the water… with black seaweed between the hairs and combining with it. The man's skin was so pale Harry had to commend the man… thirty years with no sunlight must have been hard. And the man was thin… too thin… and with such dark and billowing robes… he had to be part bat in a way… A MerVamp… and it was_breathing_ on him.

"Err… could I help you?" he asked.

"Aah… Mr. Potter… our new…celebrity." The man sneered.

Harry stared at him…'MerVamp… The swimming vampire… a bloodsucking mermaid… Ariel plus Dracula… Shudder…' were the thoughts running through his head.

"Tell me, Mr. Potter… where would I be able to find a Bezoar?" the MerVamp asked.

"Err… a goat?" Harry answered. "It would be in the stomach of a goat."

Now Harry usually wasn't one to be intimidated but the man was easily three to four times taller than he. And the man had extreme halitosis … if only he had a mint. Harry would have given anything to step back a few steps without insulting the man which little Harry had guessed was his Professor.

The man sneered at him once again. "It looks like you did a little summer reading. But do not be fooled. Reading ahead will get you nowhere in this class. Potions is a practical art which takes more than the mere ability to read to perfect. There will be no wand waving or silly spell casting here. Now put your wands away and the instructions are on the board. Anyone who makes a mistake… well, I assure you… you will not be missed."

The class Harry had been looking forward to and had been making strides in suddenly became nothing but torturous lessons with the MerVamp. The thing had it in for him, of that he was sure.

Young Harry's first weeks at Hogwarts was shaping up to be as fun as life with the Dursley's.

Slowly, Harry closed his eyes and willed his goo to return to him. The goo retreated at a moderate pace, cleansing itself before returning to Harrys body. He opened his eyes, found that the damage to the broom closet was minimal, with only some goo left over so he quickly stood and left the place.

Little Harry yawned, he had not been sleeping ever since his prank. He would leave his dormitory and escape into the broom closet to have his goo time in order to relieve some stress and depression from midnight to breakfast. Which reminded him: there was an oatmeal-bacon-toasty waiting for him at the Hufflepuff breakfast table.

He stretched as he walked towards the Great hall, making himself levitate a few centimetres higher with every step. He continued to do so just until the height of his levitation was just high enough not to be noticed when a Ravenclaw first year bumped into him. Harry looked at him and tried to remember the boys name.

"Oh, Harry! I didn't see you there. You heading to breakfast too? I'll walk with you. Sorry about bumping into you. I'm a bit nervous about the flying lessons today. I never really liked heights." the boy said nervously as the two continued walking.

Harry didn't really say anything the entire journey as the Ravenclaw continued spewing out tips and tricks he had read or heard the past week. Harry merely nodded. He had flown many times before in terms of his levitation off the ground. In fact, he was flying at that moment if the Ravenclaw could only notice.

They reached the doors to the Great Hall and entered together, the boy beside Harry never even taking a moment to breathe the entire trip. Harry was very grateful to whoever waved at the boy beside him shouting "Terry! Over here!"

Terry Boot. Harry remembered suddenly. That was the boys name. They exchanged 'goodbye's and 'goodluck's before heading over to their respective house tables. Harry smiled widely as he created another delicious oatmeal-bacon-toasty, munching along while owls flew around the different tables delivering mail.

"Hey Harry, what do you think we'll be allowed to do during the flying lesson? I head Madam Hooch was strict but fun. She is the referee for all the Quidditch matches after all." Wayne Hopkins sat down next to him and poured himself a bowl of oatmeal.

Harry swallowed the large lump of oatmeal with bits of crunchy bacon and toast. "I don't really know. But Terry Boot was talking about the lesson too."

Wayne nodded. "It's all any of us first years is talking about. Malfoy over at Slytherin is talking about outflying a muggle felli-copper and Weasley over at Gryffindor is telling anyone who would listen about the time he stole his brothers broom and flew over half of England the way he talked about it."

"Don't be nervous. The first flying lesson is always fun. Madam Hooch wants to show you guys how to fly a broom properly first then maybe show you guys something fun to look forward to if you join a Quidditch team." A fourth year Hufflepuff interrupted. "Of course, she'll explain the rules of the game to you all first too more for the muggleborns than anyone else really."

"Thanks, Cedric!" Wayne smiled. "I can't wait for flying lessons. Can you Harry?"

Harry shrugged. He didn't like the idea of a broom. Wouldn't it chafe? Besides, Harry wasn't really a sports fellow. He was too small for any of the sports his old school offered and more often than not, Gym class had been more of 'Rough-up-Harry' time for Dudley and his friends.

Harry finished the rest of his breakfast and gulped down an entire goblet full of pumpkin juice before joining the rest of the Hufflepuff first years who were already starting to stand and leave towards the Quidditch Pitch.

As the Hufflepuffs were approaching the field, the Ravenclaw first years joined them and the two groups started to talk excitedly about the upcoming lesson. Except Harry. The entire walk towards the pitch found Harry yawning over and over again while rubbing his eyes. He was also thinking about the Marauders. He needed them to notice him but he didn't know how. He couldn't ask the twins about them since the Marauders might deem him too weak to find them himself.

They finally approached the Quidditch Pitch to find two neat rows of not-so-neat brooms on the ground.

"Well? What are you all doing? Stand next to a broom!" a voice commanded from behind them.

Harry quickly found himself between Terry Boot and Wayne Hopkins. Their instructor had short cut hair and yellow hawk-like eyes.

"Now put your right hand over your broom and say 'up'!" she instructed.

Harry turned to Wayne and remembered Wayne was left-handed. He turned to their professor and raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"What if one was left-handed? Should he still use his right hand?"

Madam Hooch looked startled for a moment then shook her head. "No, if you are left handed I would suggest you move the broom to your left and use your left hand."

Wayne looked at Harry with a grateful expression before doing just that. Harry did the same, keeping in mind that his left hand usually did better with tasks than his right.

"Up." Harry said almost lazily. The broom shot into his hand, a look of surprise shot into Waynes face but Harry ignored it.

Once everyone had gotten their brooms to cooperate Madam Hooch all asked them to mount their brooms. Little Harry was dreading this part if only because he was afraid that he would chafe due to the broom. Surprisingly, as Harry tried to sit directly on the wooden shaft, an invisible pillow-like seat caught his buttocks.

"Wicked." He smiled as he felt the cushion and the stirrups that were invisible.

Harry hadn't known at the time but Madam Hooch was paying extra attention to him which she deemed only prudent since his Father was a Quidditch star in his day. Of course, Harry knew next to nothing about his parents so he continued to admire the craftsmanship of the not-so-nice-looking school broom he was riding.

Madam Hooch went around correct grips and told Harry that he may be more suited in using his right hand to steer, freeing his other hand for other tasks. Not knowing what other tasks one might need while riding a broom, Harry dismissed the comment. After all, who was he to know she was already trying to see if he had a talent in Quidditch? He didn't even know the sport.

Harry smiled as he relaxed his grip a bit and felt suddenly excited about flying. How hard would it be to ride a broom anyway?

"Now, on the count of three, I want you to kick-off, hover, then come back down. 1, 2, 3!" she blew her whistle and the students kicked off.

Harry found that it was not hard to ride a broomstick. It was, however, difficult to try to reign in his inner-flier as he suddenly felt the urge to loop-the-loop and try some barrel rolls at the highest speed his broom could take. He had never felt such a high! The earth was slowly becoming farther away as he continued to have, literally, the ride of his life.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle once more, signalling that they had to touch down.

Harry frowned as he reluctantly flew down.

"Now, I have had no qualms with your class, unlike the other. So I will teach you the rules of Quidditch and then I will put you through a kind of sample tryout which Quidditch team captains usually put through to specific fliers to find the correct person for the position. I will need to send a note to your next professor to excuse you all from your next class. Any volunteers?"

Harry desperately wanted to fly again and made no such move to volunteer. However, if no one would-

"I'll do it Madam Hooch." Wayne spoke up.

Wayne looked a bit green and Harry knew that the boy had no intention of leaving the solid ground ever again.

"Thank you Mr. Hopkins. Five points to Hufflepuff."

As Wayne left, Madam Hooch asked the class to sit on the grass as she explained the game of Quidditch.

"Now, Quidditch is a sport among witches and wizards wherein a team of seven players go against another while on broomsticks. There are three Chasers; they pass to each other a red ball called the Quaffle. See those goal posts? A Keeper will be flying around them to protect the goal posts since a shot made by a Chaser that goes through a hoop is ten points. There are also two Beaters. They carry bats with them and it's their jobs to keep in line two black balls called Bludgers. Bludgers have been spelled to hit players off their brooms. So it's the Beaters job to hit the Bludgers away from their team, towards the opposing teams' members. Now the final and most sought after position is that of the Seeker. It's the Seekers job to locate a golden ball that flies around the stadium during matches. A Quidditch Match can only end when the ball is captured. Now that ball," she placed her hand in her pocket and took out a gold ball with silver wings, "is called a Snitch."

Immediately Harry's eyes were glued on to the small golden ball. All Harry could think of was that he wanted that ball even more than he wanted anything else in his life. Little Harry was transfixed.

"Madam Hooch?" a girl in Ravenclaw, Padma Patil, raised her hand.

"Yes, Ms. Patil?"

"Has anyone died from being hit by the blood-gers?"

"Bludgers, Ms. Patil. No, not in Hogwarts. However some fatalities are not unheard of in Professional Quidditch though it is still rare. Now, the first position I will introduce to you is the Beaters position. I want you all to form two lines. Find a partner."

Harry's arm was tugged and he looked up to find that Terry Boot had claimed his as a partner. He shrugged.

Madam Hooch had them holding short baseball bat-like clubs that they used to hit the Quaffle towards each other. Harry and Terry were able to pass it back to each other three times, which seemed to be the class average. Harry was a bit disappointed that they would be doing the exercise on brooms but figured that it might get a bit too dangerous if they got too high and lost concentration.

Chaser try-outs, however, was done on brooms and Harry had to contain his excitement. As he kicked off, he did a little twists, turns, and loops before meeting Terry and a girl named Lisa in the air. They were asked to play a game of catch, throwing the Quaffle to each other, going further away every time the Quaffle was caught. If the Quaffle hit the ground then the team had to touch down. Harry thought his team could have lasted longer if Lisa hadn't fumbled the last catch.

He was glad that they were allowed to fly again for the keeper tryouts. Harry, Terry, and another girl named Megan were grouped together and tried to score against another first year, Justin, while making sure each had a chance to take a shot before they touched down. Harry himself was able to score against Justin and blocked two of the other students trying to score from him when it was his turn to play keeper.

"Now, for the seeker tryout I will release five snitches. Whoever catches one will touch down then I will re-release one professional level snitch on the top five seekers of the class. Whoever catches this snitch will be able to keep the first snitch they caught."

Harry instantly became serious. He wanted a snitch. And he would get one... no matter what.

Madam Hooch released the five snitches, Harry's eyes followed a specific snitch, then after a few minutes she blew her whistle and Harry was in the air.

It was mayhem with around two dozen first years trying to go after only five snitches. Harry's eyes never left his prize though as he dove, twisted and turned around the other students and finally caught the golden ball in his hand. His face lit up with so much joy he felt that his cheeks would split with the pressure his smile was putting on them.

He touched down and was congratulated by Madam Hooch. "Very good, Mr. Potter. Ten minutes is a very good time even for school level snitches."

Harry was joined next to Madam Hooch by Terry Boot, Hannah Abbot, Megan Jones and Michael Corner.

"Now I want you all to close your eyes and wait until the snitch is able to successfully disappear from sight. When I blow my whistle, you may open your eyes and start searching. And remember, whoever catches the snitch will be able to keep the school level snitch you caught earlier. Ready? Close your eyes."

Harry was instantly plunged into darkness when a happy though occurred to him. If he had so much fun with his flying senses competing with his visual sense, how much fun would it be if he truly felt like he had no limits and started flying with his eyes closed? Would the rush be even greater? Harry decided he would like to find out.

He heard the whistle and immediately mounted his broom and kicked off from the ground. He had never experienced a feeling such as flight with no sight! He felt himself, more than saw or knew, twirl, dip, turn, flip, and roll around in the air with his broom. He was shouting and laughing in happiness as he continued to feel like he was limitless when-

He started coughing. He stopped his broom, feeling more than noticing that he was upside-down, before he coughed out what seemed to be the professional level snitch.

His fellow Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws couldn't stop laughing at how the 'professional' level snitch got caught. Harry himself felt a giggle coming on as he remembered the ordeal. Capture-by-chokling was by far very original.

His good mood seemed to go on for the rest of the day as he met up with Wayne during Charms class and his housemates filled the boy in on what happened during the rest of the flying lesson. They pointed at Harrys pocket when Wayne looked at them incredulously.

"Look at Harry's pocket! He's got his snitch in there as his prize!" Justin told Wayne.

Harry pulled out his snitch and they watched as it lay peacefully on Harry's palm.

"Wow." Wayne exclaimed.

Charms class was coming in easier for Harry. He enjoyed learning the house-hold spells since they triggered the thought of him using them half way. In fact, he even called charms his Experiment class. He would use spells half way and see their effects. He would use the levitation charm to work half-way so that anything he would levitate would only fly a few inches, giving a false sense of weakness, before adding the last half which usually caused whatever he was levitating to ricochet to his desired target.

Potions, on the other hand, was very tedious. He liked the subject. Oh, how he loved working on his potions but he couldn't let himself be carried away in class. He was an enigma to his Professor and that was not a good thing. The MerVamp loved to discredit him and if it weren't for Wayne, his sort-of-friend- and-potions-partner, he would have been oozing green goo in each class.

Little Harry closed his bed hangings, covered himself in his blanket and levitated till his head hit the top of his canopy bed. He smiled as he went to sleep. After all, who ever said he had to sleep in his bed? He was born to be in the air.

He awoke many hours before his dorm mates. He got down and quickly did his morning routine. He fetched his bag with his books, parchment, quills and ink. He was ready for the day. He had been working on a side project, if you will, for a while now and as he went down to the kitchens to grab a pre-made Oatmeal-bacon toasty. He thanked the house-elf and left. It had been such a great day when he found the kitchens. He had always been curious about the portrait of the fruit bowl near his Common Room. It was far too large to be inconspicuous so he had decided that it had a great secret. His face was priceless as he took in the hundreds of little creatures cooking. They explained to him that he was in the Kitchens and that they were house elves. He had been coming there every morning for a pre-breakfast snack for nearly a week.

Harry smiled as he trotted on through the halls of Hogwarts. It was amazing how much energy was going through him, just by walking the halls.

His rule-breaking had been quiet for a while. His being upset with himself had taken a toll on his rule breaking but he was preparing himself... He had found the ultimate rule to break. And he smiled as he plopped down on his table at the library and researched.

He left his table, things and a piece of parchment while he searched for the books he needed.

Now, if anyone bothered to look at that little piece of paper he had left behind they would stare for at the top of that seemingly insignificant parchment was the heading: Steps to Beheading a Nearly Beheaded Ghost

**Authors Note:**

I'm so sorry for the delay.

P.S. The Green Goo was done in tribute to Dianna Wynne Jones who wrote one of my favorite fantasy books, Howl's Moving Castle. I suggest you all check it out! Rest in Peace Mistress Dianna, you made my imagination soar like no one else could.


	6. Chapter 6

***02/18/12* Posted –** Hope ya'll enjoy. Unbeta'd so please forgive some errors. Shall consult with my beta at her earliest convenience to edit it. But I really just wanted to post as soon as possible. Sorry for making you wait! I present to you..

Chapter 6 – Wanted: Colleagues, Test Subjects, and Un-Boring History Lessons

A young wizard by the name of Harry James Potter was twirling his Phoenix Feather wand between his fingers as he glared at a wall. It wasn't just any old wall. Harry was currently on the seventh floor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. To be more precise, he was currently glaring at the wall in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls to dance ballet.

He knew something was wrong with this wall. It wasn't… dare he say it? _Normal_. It had a certain feel to it that the other walls didn't. You see, that was the secret of how little Harry Potter never got lost. Each door, wall and corridor left him with very specific sensations on his arms. Some tickled him; which was how he found the doorknob to the kitchens, while some gave him goose bumps. The sensations differed from a slight prickly feeling on his wrist to a cool, menthol feeling on his fingertips.

Now, some might wonder what exactly Harry was doing glaring at said wall. Well, he was frustrated. He had already ransacked the Hogwarts Library for his latest conquest and he came up…short. He had searched all through Hogwarts, well the parts he knew he could explore anyway. He dared not enter the Professors private quarters, which included each of their private collections of books. Oh, he knew he could pull it off and not get caught but even he had to admit that he was slightly intimidated by more than a few professors. His absolute favourite Professor, however, surprised most of the people who asked. Professor Quirinus Quirrell, Professor of the Defense against the Dark Arts.

Harry had been fascinated with the Defense against the Dark Arts class since it seemed like the wizard counterpart of Taekwondo or Karate. He had always wanted to learn how to defend himself since Dudley was no stranger to rough housing and bullying. Harry Hunting was an on-going activity at the Dursley's Home, fun for ages 0-100.

Professor Quirrell's eye twitched; Harry thought it was funny. He stuttered everything he said; Harry could tell it was a fake and thought it a great way to prank students into reading the assigned material themselves. Most of all, Harry liked his turban. It gave off a strange feeling and often led to the prickling of his scar. Now, you might think it strange that Harry actually likes the prickling of his scar. However, after a talk with his head of house, he found the real origin of his famous scar. He wanted to kick himself for considering it just a normal part of his body. It was his very own version of a warriors mark and it reminded him that he survived. He was reminded that his parents loved him so much that they died for him. He liked being reminded of its presence every once in a while and a sure fire way to do so was to stare at his favourite Professor's turban.

Now back to the wall, Harry could tell that there was something beyond that wall. Maybe there was a special library or maybe a room of secrets? He didn't know exactly but he had a gut feeling that something was behind that wall and discovering it would not only lead to the success of his current project, but future projects he was planning to do. Not to mention the projects he had on hold.

He had already tried phasing through the wall but he then found himself almost a hundred feet off the ground. He knew that somehow, the room 'kicked him out' as quickly as he entered. If it weren't for his love of defying gravity, he probably would have busted his buttocks. After all, didn't experts say that the buttocks could cushion falls? He particularly liked his buttocks. It allowed him to sit down and do other necessary human things.

He was in a bit of a quandary. He was even contemplating just making a colossal hole in the wall. He sighed. In times such as these, there was only one way to get his creative mind working. Whenever he was stumped, he liked to walk upside down. His reason? No, it's not because his blood would then rush to his brain giving him a boost. It wasn't because it gave a new perspective on his surroundings. Though, those two actually were very good reasons he could use if any of his classmates ever found out about his upside-down walking. His real reason was because he found it funny when he made footprints on the ceiling. His Aunt never saw them since he only did it in his small cupboard and then, he did it rarely. But at Hogwarts? Weekly. He would stifle a laugh when people pointed to the footprints as they walked through corridors, wondering aloud whether the castle was playing host to some kind of new magical breed of gravity-defying lizard or even a half wizard-half flying animal that walked the halls at night. He found it hilarious. Though, he did get a little irritated when someone commented on how small the footprints were.

And so, Harry grinned as he begun to rise off the ground, he inverted himself, and felt his feet touch the ceiling. He laughed as he started walking back and forth in front of the wall. He kept thinking of how fun it would be to be able to actually let loose for a while. He had been stressed with his, so far, dead-end projects and still no word from the Marauders had been had.

He stopped in his tracks, however, when he felt a shift in the sensation that was once tickling his palm. Now, he felt it start to prick a bit and that usually accompanied a high energy level or power nearby. He turned his attention to the wall that seemed to want to mock him. Except… it wasn't a wall! Now, being just as upside down as he was, a grand door was innocently beckoning him. Harry grinned. This would be interesting indeed.

That day was a very productive Thursday. Harry had then returned to the secret room, or what he had dubbed the "Stuff Room", on a daily basis. He even preferred it over the library as it contained thousands of obscure books that he immediately dove into. But he did separate the books he knew he wouldn't be able to comprehend until he was bit more trained and was able to identify more concepts. His current project was going a bit slower than he had hoped but he was able to make significant progress especially after founding the stuff room.

His classes were going well. He made sure to be at the very least, top 25 percent of his class but was very careful to leave the top positions open. He didn't need to draw attention now, did he? And his fifteen-minute per table routine was turning out to be even more of an advantage than he ever imagined it to be. He was suddenly made aware of all the information he was privy to just by being at another house table for fifteen minutes. He was learning Wizard Etiquette with the Slytherins after they found out that he didn't know their ways. He learned about interesting concepts, often discussed around him by the Ravenclaws and a few of their older housemates even joined in once in a while. The Gryffindors were as happy-go-lucky as ever and that's where many of his prank ideas would form. His creative mind was on overdrive every time he was with Fred and George. His fellow Puffs were always there for him. He valued their hard work and unity when it came to defending one of their own. Wayne, in particular seemed to always be there when he needed him. They stuck together. He needed that sense of stability in his life and he wasn't ashamed to admit that the Dursley's never offered that to him growing up.

As he walked down the hallways of Hogwarts on a beautiful Thursday evening, exactly a week after founding the stuff room, he grinned at the portraits he passed. He was about to make a proposition to a certain… 'person' and he was excited. He had never had a test-subject that could speak before and he wondered what it would be like.

He made his way to the staircases but frowned as the one he needed shifted. He looked around and carefully started to jump off the landing. He walked down the walls, making an angle of ninety degrees, and whistled as he walked. He got to the landing he wanted to get into and started to walk towards what he had dubbed as the Ghost corridor. What a lot of the students didn't know was that the ghosts of Hogwarts usually haunted this particular corridor. It gave Harry a chilling sensation on his shoulder and that indicated that a certain magical bond or presence initiated them into doing so. He knew that the 'Person' he wanted to see would be there.

"Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington! What a coincidence to run into you tonight!" Harry greeted exuberantly as he spotted his test subj- err… ghost of choice.

The nearly beheaded ghost stared at him for a bit before smiling as exuberantly as Harry.

"Why, hello there young Mr. Potter. What brings you here at this time of night? Not getting into trouble, I hope." The ghost replied cheerfully, his tunic with a ruff slightly getting out of place, allowing Harry to see a small piece of flesh that undoubtedly kept the ghost 'nearly beheaded'.

"Well, Sir Nicholas, I've got a proposition for you." Harry smiled. "But I reckon you need to ask the council first before you agree or disagree to it. I guarantee that you will never receive a proposition like the one I am offering so I caution you to think well about it and present it to the council the best way you can."

Sir Nicholas was a bit startled at first and Harry had laughed at the sputtering the ghost had done after the idea sunk in. Sir Nicholas was so excited and started thanking Harry profusely, to which Harry replied in the following way: 'I haven't even done anything yet!' Now all Harry had to do was await the Ghost Councils verdict. He had found a tome in the Stuff Room that described the politics of the ghost community and Harry had been thankful for finding it. He had no idea that a Ghost Council even existed until he read the tome. It said that when any ghost-related decisions were made, the Council had to convene to discuss a course of action, or in this case, approval or disapproval. Harry knew that agreeing to his proposition meant that if the project was to become successful, he would undoubtedly find a way to help or cause harm to ghosts which was in every way a threat to their community. He only hoped that they would trust him enough to keep the information to himself once the project was successful.

So Harry trotted along. He went to class and kept his routines. Oatmeal-bacon toasty was what he ate every morning, fifteen minutes per table was never disrupted, and he remained the top of the 25 percent of his class. Now, he did also do the occasional prank every now and then just to relieve his stress. Of course, the term 'occasional' can be considered a kind of _relative_ measure. Such as, Harry considered his pranking to only occur _relatively occasional_. After all, he had to test some of his spells on _someone_, didn't he? Everything was reversible anyway... _so far._

Students now proceeded to class with caution. Ever since he had come into a random classroom during one of his late night escapades, word had spread the word that classrooms were not safe and even seventh years were seen performing scanning spells to the classrooms before entering. He didn't know what the big deal was. Students from that class certainly found out more about zoology than they originally would have and he thought he'd be a great help to society if they knew more about non-magical creatures and not just the magical type. Nothing motivated a student into studying more than trying to figure out what they had changed into so they could change back.

Harry had quickly found a way to hide his tricks though, so none were ever discovered before they took effect. Of course, he didn't know that merely being a first year had basically given him a whole years worth of 'free passes'. After all, how could a first year, new to magic, and the society in general, pull of pranks some sixth years were having trouble reversing? The Weasley twins, in particular, entered the great hall every morning after a prank was performed and congratulated the new prankster in loud voices. Most of the hall just laughed uncomfortably at them since they knew that Fred and George were actually calling the new prankster out. They wanted a prank war and the rest of the Hogwarts population was very thankful that the new prankster had not replied. Though, with the teachers were on a manhunt to find said prankster, it was committing suicide to reply to a call out during breakfast.

Harry stifled a laugh as the third year Hufflepuff and Slytherin students made their way to lunch on Friday with purple polka dotted yellow feathers on their skins and blue beaks for noses. Of course, the purple roosters wattle hanging down their chins didn't help them any. He had also rigged their pumpkin juice and the effects should-

"SQUAAAWWK!' A third year Slytherin squawked after taking a large gulp of pumpkin juice. Harry smiled. Being friends with the little creatures in the Kitchen was greater fun than he could have ever imagined.

What followed was a series of clucking and squawking third years trying to communicate to their housemates about what was going on. Madame Pomfrey sighed as she got up and announced, "All third year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins please report to the Hospital Wing immediately. Let's get you lot un-clucked."

When the current victims left, the great hall erupted into laughter. It was now becoming a rule to the students never to laugh at the people pranked in front of them. It was incredibly embarrassing so they all agreed to laugh once the victims were out of sight and earshot. The victims didn't know what was worse, for them to _see and hear_people laugh at them or for them to just _know_ that people were laughing at them. Every student knew that they would inevitably be pranked or already was pranked so this rule remained true.

Harry, though, lay off the Weasley twins, therefore leaving their classmates alone as well, and the first years. He thought that he had already pranked the first years, and besides, he'd have to prank himself if he ever did prank the first years. Pranking the Weasley twins was like evoking the wrath of Hogwarts current, but was now being challenged, Prank Kings. Of course, he did intend to prank them. Just not right now. He was planning something… _special_ for his two friends.

He was also very nervous for the coming night. Sir Nicholas had spoken to him after Transfiguration and had informed him that he was to present the case himself in front of the council since they wanted to meet him and see if there was even a possibility of being able to be successful with the project. They didn't want Sir Nicholas to hope for nothing.

Harry had then poured over the few remaining scrolls and tomes he had about ghosts, spending little time away from the Stuff room. He only left for meals and classes.

His best subject was Charms. Professor Flitwick had even come to speak with him after class about the experiments he performed. Of course, Professor Flitwick saw maybe ten percent of the experiments he was actually performing. The small professor found his ideas enlightening and telling Harry he had a very hyper active imagination and that if he studied well enough, maybe he would be able to create spells that would perform the experiments he wanted. Harry was flattered but felt rather downtrodden when the Professor informed him that he would only be able to create, and publish spells legally if he was part of the Ministry of Magic after graduation. Harry didn't like working for anyone but himself. It might sound selfish but he didn't know what exactly the ministry was or what they did. It would be foolish to align himself to them so quickly.

That afternoon Charms class had proven useful as they learned something called the 'Hair Color Change Charm'. Since the 'new pranker' used that particular spell in a lot of his pranks, Professor Flitwick thought it practical to teach the students to change their hair color back to the way it was through his classes. Harry of course, already knew how to perform the spell but he had not done it with his Phoenix wand before.

You see, if you recall, Harry had two wands. His phoenix wand was what he had used for classes and the one registered by the ministry and the school while his other wand, since it was so old and old, was not registered by any organization so he used it for pranks and experiments. He had taken to calling that particular wand James, after his father. He had discovered that the wood in his fathers' wand was the same as that wand, Mahogany, and he thought it appropriate.

He had read some scrolls on wand making and was curious as to the components of James. The only way to do so, though, was to dismantle it and he was unsure if he could do so. He was going back to Ollivanders with the scrolls that summer though, just to satisfy his curiosity.

His phoenix wand was a bit more temperamental with him since it seemed a bit incomplete in his hand. James on the other hand, though still had that incomplete feeling, would cooperate when he did his pranks and experiments. Hiding his true potential and intellectual mind was easier with a wand that fought with him every step of the way. Of course, he did still practice without any of his wands when he didn't feel like holding a wand at the time. He didn't like swishing a wand to do magic when he could do so with just a flick of his wrist. He had to concede that he had observed that the wand had helped regulate power in his spells, letting him cast more spells than he would have without a wand.

His Potions class was not a very interesting class. Harry had been paired with Ravenclaw Anthony Goldstein. Anthony hated potions. But he proved himself a Ravenclaw by memorizing the ingredients, procedure, and reactions by heart. So Harry had the wonderful task of actually making the potion as Anthony recited the ingredients and procedure. Harry didn't mind since he liked making potions but the class was rather dull. Until Wayne dropped in an incorrect ingredient which caused the potion he was working on with Su Li to fume a sickly orange fog, inhaled by them both. They sprouted branches and leaves all over their arms and face. Wayne had sprouted a long branch on his nose with matching leaves and even a birds' nest. Harry was immediately reminded of Pinocchio. Class was suspended after that incident as the potion had contaminated the air, so MerVamp immediately placed a bubble-head charm on each of the students.

Harry had skipped along merrily to the Stuff room, collecting the scrolls he needed and passing by his dormitory to leave his books for class. He then went straight to the corridor from Professor Binns' classroom, in the direction of the marble staircase. This was Ghosts Corridor.

Harry shivered as he felt a chill from his middle finger going towards his shoulder. He knew he was at the right place. He faced a painting of a man playing a saw and said, "Ghost Council Headquarters". The password was not really hard to decipher but then again, most people didn't even know there was such a thing as a Ghost Council, let alone Headquarters for it.

The portrait dissolved, leaving a blank frame. Harry walked through it and found himself floating above the ground but not by his own devices. The room was large, maybe half of the great hall, and was filled with ghosts from all around Hogwarts and some were from other places as well. They were all seated on ghost like chairs which made Harry had to smirk at. At his immediate eyesight though, Sir Nicholas was beckoning him to a very solid looking chair.

Harry greeted him and sat down. The highest seats were being occupied by the House Ghosts. Sir Nicholas had floated away from him and sat down to the right-most ghostly high-chair. Beside him was the Fat Friar who was a jolly fellow. He smiled at Harry and even went as far as offering a little wave. Harry waved back, albeit a little less enthusiastic. The Grey lady sat beside the Fat Friar and was eyeing Harry with a bit more of curiosity than the look of the Bloody Baron that was outright telling him that he was not trusted.

The Grey Lady stood then spoke to Harry and the crowd of ghosts. "Harry James Potter, we have accepted your request to appear before us today out of respect and good will to our fellow council member, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington. You have the floor."

Harry cleared his throat, stood, and smiled at them all.

"It has come to my attention that Sir Nicholas has been rather nearly-beheaded for quite some time. After some study, I was able to formulate a theory that would allow myself to sever the remaining flesh that keeps Sir Nicholas nearly beheaded. I propose to cut off his head and let him enjoy the eternity of his ghost-life completely beheaded and happy." He smiled.

The entire room broke out in whispers. He heard the Bloody Baron sneer at him and Edgar Clogg, the Quidditch Ghost, exclaim the word 'Impossible!' over and over again.

"How do you propose to do this?" One of the ghosts that did not reside at Hogwarts asked.

Harry took out James from his pocket and said, "Using my wand of course!"

Even though they were ghosts, he couldn't let them know he could perform magic without a wand.

"That is impossible Mister Potter. Ghosts are not affected by spells and curses." The Bloody Baron said, his eyes boring into Harry's.

"Before I explain, I need you all to take the Apparitional Oath to never speak of what I am about to say." Harry told them. There were some murmurs of protest but they all took the oath, for ghosts, breaking the apparitional oath meant that they would lose their right to 'haunt' the certain place they stayed and would be taken to a cavern a hundred feet below ground. The myth was that Lucifer himself was there, waiting for lost souls and ghostly traitors.

"I have come across an ability that has since been passed to very few living beings. After extensive research into the Ghost Council itself, I have come to find that in the beginning a living human being had founded the council. With its founding, this human being also created all things that you see around you: the chairs, the tables, the desks, the enchanted candles that may give you a slight feeling of warmth. He has long since moved on and the original founding council has moved on as well. I bet the oldest ghost here can't have been around for longer than 800 years. That was way past the founding and was around the time necromancy was banned. Well, I have been experimenting and am confident that I can create ghost-weapons. Or ghost-things such as those chairs you are seated on right now. I only ask permission to start experimentation with the help of Council member Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington."

The utter silence in the room was expected. So Harry just stared at each and every one of them. His very solid chair started to levitate. It started with the lower level seated ghosts. He stared into each and every one of their unseeing eyes. He continued to stare into each ghost, literally staring _into_ them, going higher and higher until he was staring at the Hogwarts Ghosts. Apparently the Bloody Baron could look quite amusing.

After acquiring one test subject, little Harry walked purposefully down the corridors in a perpetually good mood. Sure, it had come to a _very_ close vote of 13-15. Many ghosts looked like they knew _exactly_ who they would dismember first if he was able to create those dead-alive weapons. Such weapons could spell physical interaction of ghosts and alives but the implications that would spring from such a weapon were lost on Harry even as the Bloody Baron tried to impress it on him. All he knew was that he now had a ghost to experiment with. He grinned a rather feral 'I-can-now-do-things-to-you-after-you-stupidly-gave-me-your-consent' type of grin. If the students of Hogwarts ever saw the look on his face, some would run away screaming but all would agree that it was creepiest smile they had ever seen.

Absently, he checked his watch and found that the meeting had gone longer than he expected and headed towards breakfast. Maybe ghosts were more solid during night? Oh well. Who was he to question their meeting hours? He wasn't a member of the council, and was hopefully decades off from ever joining it.

He plopped himself down on the Hufflepuff table and quickly started making his breakfast of choice. He munched on it while he watched his housemates interact with each other. He noticed a bright package being brought to a Neville Longbottom of Gryffindor. The Gryffindor boy was explaining that the sphere was a Remembrall and it would turn red to remind the owner if he/she had forgotten something. Immediately, the small ball turned red. Ah yes, it was Gryffindor-Slytherin day for flying lessons. Harry ignored the Gryffindor table and looked up at the owls, an idea already forming on his mind for the one hiccup that caused him all too much grief at Hogwarts. Well, the one thing he could do something about at the moment anyway. And this idea was relatively very simple and hassle-free. Hmm..

He bid farewell to his housemates and made his way to the owelry. He navigated through secret passages, moving staircases, and turned invisible at areas where the portraits were all too generous in speaking their thoughts on your behaviour and fashion-choices. He climbed the winding staircase leading to the owelry.

He quickly found his snowy white owl and she descended, landing on his shoulder.

"Oh yeah... I haven't named you yet, have I?" he asked her.

She gave him a negative hoot.

"Well... what about naming you Hedwig? It's the only name I remember from Professor Binns droning."

She nipped his ear affectionately.

"Okay then. Hullo Hedwig. I would like to send a letter. It won't be a long journey. The recipients are in the castle. So it won't be such an arduous task. Let me just write it up."

He quickly pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket and cut it up to four pieces. He distinctly remembered having heard there were four members of the group and so, he began to pen his letter.

_To the Marauders._

Authors Note:

Hope you guys liked it! Will write up the next chapter soon. Sorry for making ya'll wait. Read and Review!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - Halloween Headways

If there was one flaw that could be found about young Harry Potter, it was that he got bored rather easily. That was the reason he had so many projects going on at the same time. As he made any leeway in any of his projects, he quickly grew bored of it and shifted his attention to another of his many enterprises.

As it was, Harry was quickly growing restless at the little progress he made with Sir Nicholas. Hedwig, who he had sent with letters to the Marauders, was also nowhere to be found. He was proud of himself for making a dent in the number of rules he had already broken in the student charter, but he still craved that exhilaration he felt when he started on new projects or when he made a large headway in any of his difficult ones.

"Harry!" Wayne greeted as he took the seat next to him on the Hufflepuff Common Room couches.

He turned to the boy who seemed to be very persistent in creating a bond of friendship with him.

"Yes?"

"You're bored out of your mind, aren't you?" the taller boy asked, his dark eyes lit with amusement.

"Why, yes. I am. Now if you don't mind, I shall continue staring at the fire. Surely a more entertaining enterprise will pop into my mind sooner or later." he told his sort-of-friend and turned back to the roaring fire.

"Well, when I'm bored I play exploding snap with my brother. Want to try a game?" Wayne asked while holding up a deck of cards.

Harry suddenly felt a jolt whiz through his body. He turned to Wayne, his eyes wide, and said, "A game?"

Wayne nodded, more enthusiastically than Harry had seen him. Wayne started shuffling the deck of cards and explaining the rules to Harry in great detail.

The two boys ended up playing 23 rounds of exploding snap, Harry discovered that he was quite good at playing the game and wondered what other games he could be good at. See, even as a child, Harry rarely played what children interpreted as 'games'. Or at least he never really called them that. They were projects, things to accomplish. If its end purpose was to provide him entertainment of any sort, like a game would, he never really associated the two ideas. Games were the sort such as 'Harry Hunting' where he defended himself rather than 'played'. Projects were those that consumed most of his time and really just killed boredom while providing him with a good laugh afterward. With such a simple beginning, Wayne Hopkins had inadvertently woken the inner gamer found within young Harry. Of course, Wayne would realize too late that this was not entirely a good thing. Especially, as Hogwarts was also soon to see, was it a bad idea to introduce Harry to the concept of games on day of Hallows Eve.

"Mr. Potter!" a voice called to Harry as he was making his way to his favorite class: Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Harry turned to find the Nearly-headless ghost gliding towards him.

"Good day, Sir Nicholas." Harry greeted, bowing as he did so.

Sir Nicholas looked particularly excited at seeing him. "Is there any progress in line of that project you approached me about? I would very much like to schedule a time we could practice your methods."

Harry frowned. "I haven't made much leeway other than what I presented to the council. I was able to create a whiff of a flame on a real candle but it quickly died out. But I am confident to find my niche in it soon."

Sir Nicholas frowned but his spirits, pardon the pun, didn't die down. "I beg your pardon, I am just so intrigued and enlivened by your proposition that I forget that you are merely a student and only a first year. I shall leave you to your duties, but call for me anytime you need a hand or if you feel ready to start the experimentation."

The Gryffindor ghost bowed to him one last time before disappearing off to some other corridor.

"Wh-wha-what wa-as tha-that a-a-about, Mr. P-p-p-potter?"

Harry turned again and found his favorite Professor ushering him into the Defense classroom.

He smiled at the Professor and said nothing, merely entering the room while taking a glance at his Professors turban. Right on cue, his scar prickled and his smile grew wider. Defense that day merely consisted of Professor Quirrell stuttering out the paragraphs on seemingly random defense spells from their books and more than half the class sleeping the hour away.

After half an hour had passed in the Defense room, Harry suddenly found himself having another bout of boredom. He turned to his right and found Wayne snoozing soundlessly. Peeking from a pocket of Wayne's satchel, however, was a deck of cards.

Those who remained awake and were trying their best to take any amount of knowledge from their stuttering Professor did not notice when their classmate started to levitate Wayne Hopkins exploding snap cards out of the satchel, duplicated the deck, and levitated the original deck back into the pocket while taking only ten of the exploding cards out of the copied deck. The rest of the copied deck disappeared and young Harry started to reminisce of the time he was allowed to watch a classmate in his non-magical school play a simple game on a school computer.

The Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw class was dismissed just in time for them to have a fifteen minute bathroom and rest break before the Ravenclaws went to have History of Magic with the Slytherins and the Hufflepuffs would have Charms with the Gryffindors. Harry wasted no time in packing up his things and heading to the Charms corridor early. As predicted, the Charms Professor was still in his office doing last minute preparations and the classroom was empty. Quickly rearranging the desks, planting the cards, and casting a few spells with James, Harry left the Charms classroom and was back in the Defense corridor before Wayne could wipe the drool from the corner of his mouth.

"Ready for Charms?" he said innocently to his fellow Puff.

Wayne yawned, stood, then picked up his satchel. "Let's head to the loo for a bit. I need to wake myself up with some water."

After a detour to the boys loo, the two Hufflepuffs joined their Charms classmates wait outside their Charms classroom.

"What's taking so long? Why can't we go inside?" A Gryffindor girl he remembered was named Granger was grumbling outside the door. Naturally, she was first in line to enter the room.

Harry turned to Wayne who shrugged and the two stood at the back of the line of students waiting to enter.

"Why are you all waiting here?" a tiny voice spoke as it approached the assembled students.

"The door was locked." Granger supplied to their Professor.

Professor Flitwick looked surprised before waving his wand in front of the door handle. "After you, Ms. Granger.", he smiled at the Gryffindor girl.

Granger flushed then entered the room. The door immediately closed after her and the assembled students quickly heard her shriek.

"What happened to the Charms classroom?!"

This time, Professor Flitwicks jovial mode had disappeared. He quickly opened the door and entered, only to have it close again. The remaining first years all started to get worried. This unusual behavior could only mean one thing: the unknown pranker had pranked the room.

"He left first years alone but it seems like he's coming after us now!" Ron Weasley, another Gryffindor squeeked. He looked utterly terrified since he was just after Granger in line to enter.

"Students!" they all heard Professor Flitwicks voice from within the room. "Just enter one-by-one. It seems we have an additional ten desks and the arrangement of the desks are slightly different that it was before. Other than that, there is no need to worry. It is still the same Charms classroom you entered yesterday!"

Ron Weasley turned to his fellow Gryffindors, and with a serious face said to them, "We we're sorted into Gryffindor for a reason. This is it, gents and..err.. girls. Let's show that prankster that we can take it just like any other sixth year!"

"You mean crying and trying to find the counter-curse in the library while rocking back and forth?" Seamus Finnigan supplied.

Harry visibly blanched. Is that how some of his pranks were received?

Ron glared at his friend and opened the door.

After a few tense minutes, they heard his voice. "Oi! It's alright. Granger and I just have these numbers floating above our heads! You get one after you sit down! I've got a three and she has a one!"

One by one, each of his classmates entered the room and had the door close right behind them. They each chose a desk and shouted out their numbers to the person going in after them.

Rapidly, the Charms corridor began to empty until only Harry, Neville and Wayne were outside. They turned to each other.

"Well, you might as well go first. If you hadn't woken me up, I would have arrived last anyway." Wayne smiled as he turned to Harry.

Neville remained silent and stared at his shoes. It was obvious that the Gryffindor boy was nervous, which was why he kept putting his turn off and letting the other students go in first.

Harry nodded and patted Wayne on the back. It had become increasingly difficult in keeping a straight face as each of his other classmates had entered and he couldn't believe the luck they had so far. He remembered his muggle classmate losing to this game quite often and fairly quickly. Maybe he didn't do it right?

He turned to look at his surroundings and couldn't help but smile. All of his classmates had numbers floating above their heads. There were those with blue colored ones, green colored twos, red colored threes, and dark blue colored fours floating above their heads. Professor Flitwick had a green two above his head as well as he was sitting in the front row, center desk.

Harry quickly sat down on the desk that was next to Hermione Granger who had a blue one on top of her head. She was sitting at the front row, one seat off from the very right end of the row and Parvati Patil, who also had a blue one, was seated right behind her. Lavander Brown to the immediate right of Parvati and also had a blue one.

"Wayne, it's alright! Come inside!" Harry bellowed.

Wayne stepped into the classroom and looked inquisitively at all the colorful numbers on top of everyones heads.

"What is this?" he asked to no one in particular.

Harry couldn't help but grin when Wayne seemed to choose the unclaimed seat next to Hannah Abbot who spotted a green two on top of her head. That left the only seat anywhere near the other Gryffindors to be the vacant one next to Dean Thomas who had a large, red, number three on top of his head.

Wayne hollered at Neville that it was safe. The Gryffindor boy entered the room and bit his lip. As Harry expected, he moved towards the only available desk near another Gryffindor.

Just as Neville was sitting down, Hermione Granger suddenly proclaimed, "Wait. I know what this is!"

The entire Charms Corridor, the adjacent Defense Corridor, and the Transfiguration Corridor just below the Charms one, shook as the 'mine' on Neville's desk exploded, triggering the explosion of the nine other 'mines' hidden among the desks of the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff first year Charms class.

Harry, covered in soot and burnt up pieces of parchment couldn't help but smile at the now empty Charms classroom his classmates and Professor had vacated. It was completely empty.

'_Minesweeper, indeed.'_

The prank on the First year Charms class spread like wildfire and every step students took, seemed more cautious than before. Even Fred and George looked a bit more cautious as they swirled their pumpkin juice around their goblets first, taking a good whiff, then sipping it slowly instead of just gulping it down like they usually did.

It was the Halloween Feast and the mood was far from festive. With the students eating so cautiously and the Professors discussing various ways on how to capture the perpetrator of the various pranks, young Harry found himself once again bored.

He felt a slight tinge of guilt that he hadn't really exerted a single brain cell into trying to figure out Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Propington's problem, but it was Halloween. And after discovering the personal significance of the day, he raised a glass, toasted to his parents, and finished the contents of his goblet in one gulp. Wayne and a few other students followed suit but sipped their juice instead of gulping it down.

Harry gave up. There was no fun to be had in the Great Hall that night. Besides, the students never even took a second glance at the pumpkin pies. It was those that he rigged to explode the minute a sequence of ten people stood up from each table. He excused himself from the Hufflepuff table and left the boring hall.

Yawning, he started to wander the Hogwarts corridors. As every bout of boredom he had ever encountered in his life, he knew that this would end as soon as it began. And this bout ended when he saw a box of cleaning materials left by the caretaker on one of the abandoned corridors in the castle. Inside this box was a spray bottle with a picture of a white petal'd flower.

'Hmm..'

It had always been a game he had wanted to play for a while now and he knew that this was a one-player game.

He glanced around to make sure no one was watching him as he closed his eyes and conjured several levitating boxes with a brick pattern painted on them. Then he conjured what looked to be large green pipes, walking mushrooms, and turtles who stood on two feet.

Smiling, Harry Potter played his first ever game of Super Harry.

Jumping over an incoming mushroom, he found himself on top of one of the pipes. He jumped again and he landed on top of one of the boxes. He jumped in place and his head hit an invisible box. A glowing flower bloomed from on top of it and he jumped again to trigger its blaster power.

He jumped onto another pipe and crouched down, phasing through the floor to move one floor below where he was. He fell to the stone floor and smiled as about twenty gold coins bigger than his head floated in front of him. Jumping his way through all the coins and collecting them, he crouched down on another pipe that brought him right back to the floor above. Phasing through the castle floors or levitating up before phasing through the ceiling was way more easy than forcing himself to teleport around the castle. Sure, the distance it could bring him was rather short but it far outweighed the energy he spent trying to teleport. He now had a new means of transportation in the magical castle, and he was about to abuse the knowledge tremendously in his new game.

That was how young Harry spent the next hour of his time. Dodging, crushing, and blasting mushrooms as he jumped, ran, and laughed his way through his game. Of course, he banished and erased all evidence of his game every time he passed them, making it impossible for him to go 'backwards' in the game.

A deep rumble suddenly stopped him in his tracks just as he was about to blast another turtle. He couldn't help but grin even wider when he remembered his pumpkin pies. What he didn't expect, however, was the screams that followed long after his pumpkins exploded followed by a sudden silence that he did not like the sound of.

Waving James one last time, the boxes, turtles, pipes, and mushrooms vanished. Making himself invisible, he started to jump, skip, and slide the various corridors he had passed during his game. He was surprised to come across Ron Weasley and Seamus Finnigan on a corridor near the Transfiguration classroom.

"Are you sure she's in this loo? We've checked around four!" whined Finnigan.

Weasley shushed him. "I'm sure. No one's seen her since Transfiguration so she's probably in the loo closest to here."

Intrigued, Harry decided to follow his two Gryffindor classmates to see what they were up to. After all, he felt another bout of boredom creeping on.

The two Gryffindors were nowhere near covert in their traipsing around the Transfiguration Corridor but Harry discovered that his training in secrecy paid off. After all, he was able to enter random rooms, make some revisions to their state, and come back out fast and silent. So much so that the two people he was following didn't even notice.

His boredom, however, flew out the window the second he saw a huge walking Troll in their immediate vicinity. It was entering a loo and Harry could only stare bug-eyed as the two Gryffindors waited for it to completely enter before locking the troll inside. Taking a glance at the sign on the door, he noticed it was a girls loo. The two Gryffindors must have noticed this as well since they turned to each other and shouted, "Hermione!"

The two Gryffindor boys rushed inside the loo, leaving Harry all by himself in the corridor. Suddenly imagining himself once again playing Super Harry, the young Potter grinned. The Ultimate Boss level provided itself to him without nearly the effort he thought he would need to create it. It was like a dream come true. Not only that, but the two Gryffindors even provided him with two hostages and a princess to save!

Pulling his transfigured plumber hat down, and snapping his jumper straps, he entered the girls loo. The sight that greeted him wasn't a pretty one. The two Gryffindors had their backs to him and Granger was passed out near one of the stalls. None of them looked seriously hurt but the Troll had already destroyed two stalls and one sink. Water covered the entire bathroom floor.

Whispering a spell to make the two Gryffindor boys fall asleep, then surreptitiously moving them to a relatively 'safe' bathroom corner, Harry quickly conjured boxes, turtles, mushrooms, venus-trap plants, green pipes, and a large star with eyes on top of the trolls head.

Cracking his knuckles, and stretching his limbs, he smiled at the troll.

"Hello, beautiful."

The troll screamed in rage and quickly landed a fatal blow in the spot Harry occupied mere minutes before. Luckily, Harry had already run towards the first set of boxes and was quickly collecting the coins by hitting his head on the boxes.

The way he had set up the game was in such a way that the boxes surrounded the troll, effectively trapping it within the invisible cylinder of activity. The troll roared once more before trying to smash its club into the boxes Harry had just collected coins from. It had just gone right through the boxes, as if the boxes were made out of some ghost material. And as simple as that, there it was: his niche in ghost product development.

Ignoring his breakthrough for the time being, he continued his game. Harry quickly gathered a flower and was busy blasting the mushrooms and turtles coming at him as the Troll continued to try and hit him with its club. However, when a near grazing hit was delivered to him, he turned and blasted the club, making it leap from the trolls hands and land right on top of an empty toilet stall near the front of the bathroom. The troll became even more enraged and tried with all its might to catch Harry with its bare hands to squish him to death. But the game was called Super Harry and he did his best to live up to the name.

Conjuring a small castle around Hermione to make sure none of the debris would harm her, Harry continued on his way through the game. The levels getting higher as he magically lifted the game a meter every time he leveled up.

The troll, completely confused by the colorful boxes, turtles, mushrooms, and pipes as well as the oddly upbeat music, started to whack at the nearby sinks, flooding the bathroom even more. Harry simply went into the bonus round, going back to the ground level and making a hole in the floor while collecting his coins. If the hole went directly into one of the potions labs, it wasn't his fault. After all, he was only trying to save his classmates from drowning on sink and toilet water.

Jumping over another mushroom, Harry was collecting another coin when he got an idea. Every time he got a pass at the Troll, he would use his blasting power to hit it. The only thing the troll could do was roar then look around confusedly as Harry started running around it then turning back and running the opposite direction. Soon, the troll got so confused that it fell straight down, its head going into a toilet bowl. Its club flew straight in the air from the impact and landed on its head in a crushing blow.

Harry jumped one last time, collecting the star with eyes on top of the trolls head. Now there were many stars circling the Trolls head and he couldn't help but laugh. Heading towards where Hermione Granger was, he entered the small castle and 'rescued' her.

Seeing as she was still knocked out cold, he sighed then banished all his game components away. He placed Weasley and Finnigan at the entrance again of the loo with their wands in their hands before he left. Conjuring another pumpkin pie, he placed it on the floor infront of the door of the loo. Walking away, he started to wonder about Hedwig. He hoped she came back with a reply.

As he was turning a corner, the pie exploded. Soon, shouts of "Bloody Hell!" was heard as all traces of the pie vanished. All in all, Harry counted it as a fun Halloween.

Authors Note:

Happy Halloween everybody! Wrote this on the fly. Hope it was entertaining for you to read since I had a blast writing it! Read and Review!

Sorry for the delay and for the chapter being so short. I'll try to update more frequently and have longer chapters. :)


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